Bright Sunshiny Day

I wore glasses in my youth, but my vision changed by the time I hit junior high school. I didn’t need them anymore – or rather, lenses couldn’t be ground finely enough to correct the minor flaw in my distance vision. Since we didn’t have the cash to throw around on that sort of thing and having me wear stronger glasses than I needed was deemed detrimental to my vision, I stopped wearing glasses then.

I started wearing computer glasses in my 30s because of the constant eye strain from being on the computer all the time. Over time, it got to where I needed glasses for fine print and reading, so I bought some cheap readers and went on with my life at the recommendation of my optometrist.

Sometime within the last two years, my eyes have actually gotten bad enough to need glasses for distance vision. Now, when I say “bad enough,” I mean actually able to be corrected. I still need correction for reading, but now the difference is only +.5 between distance and reading glasses, vs “you see distance well enough, but you need actual correction for your near vision.”

So yes, I now wear glasses full time and have progressive lenses so I don’t have to constantly swap my glasses. Clear for inside and prescription sunglasses for outside, thanks to Costco Optical (it’s listed in the “things to buy at Costco” section), after all was said and done, including optical insurance coverage (which I’m lucky to have), I got two pairs for what I would have expected to pay for a single pair at my previous optometrist’s office. (My ophthalmologist’s office doesn’t actually have an optical center and I have to see an ophthalmologist now because of my other health issues, which put me at higher risk of even more wackiness going on with my eyes than I already have.)

In some ways, I’m a little sad. My readers have become something of a fashion statement for me, especially my Lydias. I’m very tempted to save up and have them re-lensed with my prescription so that I can still wear them when the mood strikes. It’s silly, especially since I picked some nice sensible frames that I can wear pretty much with everything.

Okay, sensible for me. They’re semi-rimless with pink and purple temples which may not be sensible for everyone. They work with my face shape, my coloring, and my wardrobe. I made the choice like I was picking makeup colors, not clothing colors. Makeup works on a whole different set of rules than clothing.

I have to admit, I was a little sad at first. Progressive lenses are a definite sign that “you’re not as young as you once were.” I had a brief flash of the “I’m so old” pity party right up until the moment when I put on my new glasses. Yes, I am a full-time glasses wearer and that is something that comes with age for many, if not most, people. I could feel sad about it, but I don’t because I now see with clarity everywhere I look.

The seeing with clarity pretty much wherever I’m looking (as long as I’m using the right part of the lens)? That’s amazing. I love actually feeling like the world is clear again, even though that means that I’m also seeing my wrinkles and stray hairs more clearly. If that’s the cost of admission to being able to see whatever I’m looking at and not fighting with blurriness or depending on people with better vision to read to me, it’s well worth it. If anything, I feel less old because I can see clearly now.

I haven’t sat down to try to selfie them yet because I suck at selfies about as much as anyone can suck at a selfie and they’re kind of an ordeal. Take 52 pictures, maybe more. Find one where I don’t look like something from a Hieronymous Bosch painting. Repeat as required.

The Last Judgement (detail of a man being eaten by a monster) c.1504 | Hieronymous Bosch

Ah, Hieronymous Bosch. How I love thee! But not looking like I was imagined up by thee.

Plus, if I take the picture, I have to acknowledge that I’ve gained 50 pounds (thanks, Hormone based IUD), and I don’t really want to immortalize that in photos. Once the IUD is out (a side effect of the hysterectomy I’m having) and I’ve recovered from surgery, I’ll get a nice picture. By nice, I mean one that my vanity can stand for other people to look at.

No delusions of hotness here.

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