Reading Between the Blurs

I've carried this hunch with me for quite some time~ something unspoken, unconfirmed, but persistent. The signs were never subtle. E-books lose me after twenty minutes; the text swims, blurs, and my concentration slips. Even paperbacks demand a spotlight, literally. Without a bold, almost theatrical kind of lighting, my eyes ache as if they're punishing me for turning another page.

A year ago, I had them checked. The verdict? Astigmatism. No grade, no prescription. Just a vague reassurance to "monitor it" and so I did...by enduring. Quietly.

Today, I visited clinic again, this time as my mom's errand buddy-turned-patient. Since I was already there, I decided to finally face it. Another eye exam. Another chance at knowing. This time, it wasn't just astigmatism. My right eye now grade 100, the left at 75.

Disorienting. Almost like I was seasick without being at sea.

And now that the truth is staring back at me, ironically clearer than ever, I find myself stalling at the door of acceptance. I’m not ready to join the club of “people with glasses.” I don’t want to be that person squinting at signs or enlarging text on a screen. For the longest time, my 20/20 vision was a quiet little badge of honor. 

But at 33, I’m learning to bow a little. To admit that something small--- but significant ---has shifted.

Maybe this is what growing up really means: surrendering to the changes we can't negotiate, even if it means trading pride for clarity. HAHA /sugarquoted