I was an awkward kid, hiding behind these oversized Harry Potter glasses, when it was cool to wear tiny rimless frames. When I hit puberty, I finally convinced my parents to let me wear contact lenses on a regular basis.
Every school has labels. I don’t particularly remember being the cool kid, until I bid farewell to that hideous obstructive piece of eyewear that sat on the top of my nose. The day I embraced contacts, I saw this sudden transformation in my personality. I felt as if I was finally comfortable with who I was. Or so I thought.
My glasses then started playing hide and seek with the outside world. On the rare occasions, that I wore my glasses outside of the four walls of my house, I was restless and uncomfortable. It was like going back to being the little girl I so despised.
And then a little while ago another transformation came about. I found my soul-glasses just when I had given up. A gorgeous pair of black and blue wayfarers. I felt unusually drawn towards them to the extent that my contacts started to take a back seat in my life. Nowadays, when I am forced to embrace them again, I find myself ill at ease. I suppose I grew out of glasses just to grow fond of them again.
And why is any of this relevant? Because, I see this as an ultimate acceptance of who I am. Like an old woman who sports her silver strands as sign of the wisdom she has collected over the ages, I am going to sport these insanely quirky glasses, like they are an integral part of me.