I’ve had glasses or contacts for pretty much as long as I can remember. My eyes and those of my family could generously be described as “dog crap” and not so generously described as “damn near blind.” I once told a girl what strength my prescription was for my contacts (6.5 in the right eye, now 7.5 in the left) and she told me that “wasn’t a thing.” Then I told her my sister’s eyes were even WORSE and she almost fell out of her chair.
I don’t recall struggling in school because I couldn’t see, nor do I remember that eye-opening moment of being able to see clearly for the first time. I do however remember selecting my first set of frames. My recollection is that I wanted to look like Arthur. Yes, the cartoon aardvark. So I picked out a set of round, bronze colored frames that became my de facto face for quite some time.
I was never bullied because of them in the way so many movies and people from older generations describe, but it did shape my experience.
I played Little League for the first couple years of elementary school, and one season I was assigned to be the catcher. I could not catch a ball from my pitcher to save my damn life, and this is in part because the catcher’s mask smashed my glasses into my face to the point that I was inhaling them. It’s very likely that my grade school-aged teammate was not throwing perfect strikes every time. But from my vantage point he was Max Scherzer and I was the bad one. Nothing was more embarrassing than having to stand up and trudge to get the passed ball literally every time it came my way. Heaven forbid there would be a ball in play and a throw home coming in my direction. At this point, my coach’s instruction was to quickly rip the mask off the mask from face so I could see the play. But all this did was send my glasses flying into the dirt and leave me searching for them before a 10-year-old collided into me at home plate. Bless my parents for their patience and not once bringing this up. They eventually invested in some elastic bungee cables designed to keep your glasses on your face; these were not effective.
I remember another incident in 2nd Grade where my teacher had us gathered on the floor to read us a story. I decided to prop my glasses onto my forehead as though they were sunglasses resting atop a baseball cap. In my mind, I was resting my eyes, and this was a perfectly cool, natural thing that grown up people did. But my teacher was so perplexed and oddly furious, calling me out in front of the class mid-story. I didn’t do that again, but now I frequently flip my sunglasses to the back of my head, resting upside down above my ears, and depending on who you talk to, this is either the mark of a massive douche bag, a dorky dad, or both. I think I saw a professional golfer do it once on TV and adopted it as my own style. That’s what I get for watching golf.
Glasses were such a part of who I was that getting contacts around 5th or 6th grade was like an assault to people’s perception of me. I remember a woman in Sunday School grabbing me by the shoulders the first time I paraded around without glasses as she demanded to know where I thought I was going without them. I kept my glasses and incredibly did not get new frames until some time after college. So anytime I did end up having to wear my Arthur glasses around I looked incredibly square. My freshman year in college, I genuinely thought it was a good idea to make a last minute Halloween costume as Where’s Waldo by throwing on a striped red and white shirt and these glasses. Meanwhile there was a person at the party who actually looked like Waldo, and no amount of jungle juice could make me feel like less of a dork.
But ultimately I needed contacts. My eyes got steadily worse as I got older, and increasingly thicker lenses in my Arthur specs would not do. So putting in contacts in every morning became routine for me from a young age. I’m often surprised when friends tell me they never made the switch from glasses to contacts because they find them difficult to put in or they’re a nuisance. I’m even more amazed even when people with mediocre eyes shrug and decide to forego glasses or contacts altogether that day. I genuinely cannot function without them and make putting on one or the other the first thing I do each morning. Imagine you couldn’t drive your car because you didn’t brush your teeth that morning. That’s me with, you know, seeing stuff.
It’s tough to describe just how well I can see without the aid of either glasses or contacts. I can see shapes and outlines, and on days when I’ve chosen to wear glasses in lieu of contacts, I can take a shower and navigate around the familiar steps of my house or my bathroom just fine. But ask me to read or distinguish anything to any degree of detail beyond more than a few millimeters in front of my face, and I find it impossible. I can only imagine how my sister or dad manage considering they’ve gotten to the point where they are not technically blind, but medical science seems no longer capable of improving their condition. My dad’s doctor once told him he was “maxed out” and that Lasix surgery came at a risk should my father’s eyes worsen even more. With Welk genes, that’s a good bet.
Once I did get new glasses, it was a revelation as though I had an entirely new option for my face. It was so exciting to premiere them to people, some of whom honestly did the song and dance that maybe I just got a haircut or shaved my beard. I have no idea how I chose the narrow, rectangular, tortoise colored frames that I did, but for years I loved the option to change up my style as easily as not putting in my contacts that day.
These glasses I’ve worn for years are now scratched and dulled to oblivion. I’ve forgotten what I once liked about them or how I came to think they were distinguished. All I knew is that they didn’t look like what Arthur wore. Last fall I saw a GQ magazine that featured a smart looking Chris Hemsworth in glasses that cost more than my rent, but I thought, Yes! That’s what I want. “Round is in,” I repeated with a raised eyebrow to my roommate. It got a laugh. I’ll take it.
I’m posting this today because I’m proud to say after months of procrastination, I have picked yet another new look for my face. I’ve selected a rounded, black frame from Rag & Bone with additionally rounded corners. One of the fully rounded frames I tried as an option had a greenish tint and looked awfully Harry Potter. I thought they looked trendy. No one else agreed, so here we are. Prior to picking these out, my girlfriend actually took me on a quick excursion to a luxury boutique shop in the mall where the cheapest option was roughly the price of my Playstation 4, so you can guess what I bought instead.
But I had to take this decision seriously. After a lifetime of wearing glasses and also not wearing glasses, I know how important a decision this is. Will I spend another four years disappointed at the look of my face because I wanted to save a few hundred bucks? I think I’ve made the right choice and look forward to debuting them to family and friends. But for me they’re not just another accessory; they’re quite literally how I see the world.