When I started this blog, I never imagined how much writing would help me so vastly develop as a person. Writing this title has made me proud of myself; it shows me just how far I have come on my journey of self acceptance. Although I hasten to add, I am definitely not fully there, yet.

Some of you reading this may have found this blog post confusing so far, especially those who don’t know me in person. Let me give you a little bit of context: I was born with congenital microphthalmia in my right eye. As a consequence, I am blind on that side, and have been since birth.

This is not a topic that was ever readily discussed in my family – through no fault of their own, they all brushed it under the carpet when they realised that I would grow up to have a fairly ‘normal’ life (I put that quotation marks because what the hell is a normal life these days?). However, as I grew up, it became increasingly apparent that my appearance would become a perpetual point of frustration and self-doubt.

You see, people are cruel. I used to believe that age played a role in a person’s ability to filter their words, but I now understand how naive that was. I was badly bullied by children, but some of the worst encounters I have had regarding my ‘impairment’ (again, I don’t really feel very impaired?) have been with fully grown, fully educated men and women. Never had I experienced more judgement or unwanted opinions, than I did at the start of medical school.

My coping mechanisms as a hormonal teenager were poor, to put things politely. I was fundamentally unable to deflect the negativity radiating off the Negative Nancys in my life. I hated the way I looked, and I also hated the limitations that people would place in front of me.

“You surely can’t DRIVE in your condition?!”

“Medical school? Will they accept you with only one eye?”

“Do you really think you can sit those exams without extra time?”

I settled into the destructive idea that if nobody expected anything of me, then why should I expect anything of myself? I was fed up of being treated differently, and I tried to hide my eye as much as possible, because I thought I could ‘blend in with normal people’ (I can’t even justify that one…what is a ‘normal person’?!)

I have a feeling I would’ve stayed that way, had it not been for a few individuals who made it their mission to show me that the judgements I was facing where not from a place of genuine credibility.

I slowly began developing my self-belief, and despite it wavering often, I convinced myself I could achieve the things I wanted in life. I still get comments, even from professionals, about how different I am, and “what a pity it is” that I have this condition. People still treat me as if being blind is a novelty, or a party trick. But increasingly, I am learning to accept that I would not be me, without all the parts that make up me.

In the wise words of the Sugababes: People are all the same, and we only get judged by what we do. Personality reflects name, and if I’m ugly, then so are you.