LJ Idol Survivor: Challenge 8: Touchy Subjects

[flipflop_diva]

It’s a hot day in late August. There are still a couple weeks until school starts up again, but I’ve already been at school for a few hours, standing in the auditorium with the other thirty-some girls on our middle school drill team.

It’s my second year on the team, and we’re deep into learning the military-based drill routines we will perform in parades that fall as we march behind the school band during competitions.

Our instructor is a woman named Debbie. For a shy, awkward fourteen-year old, she seems to me to be the epitome of cool. She’s blonde and pretty and cheerful and funny and everyone loves her. She has her favorites, and I’m not one of them, but I wish so much that I could be.

We are in the middle of a complicated section. Lots of different hand movements that need to be perfectly placed and timed. I can do it just fine when we go slow, but when we speed up, I’m having trouble. I keep messing up one little part and feeling frustrated.

The next time we try it, I am off again on my counts, and Debbie notices.

She calls my name. “Kristine, you need to be faster,” she says.

I feel my cheeks growing warm, but I nod. “Yes, Ma’am,” I say.

I expect that to be it, for her to continue with class. Instead she keeps looking at me, and her gaze is getting more steely.

“Look at me when I talk to you,” she says.

Instantly a feeling of dread washes over me. I feel myself blushing more. But I reply with as much strength as I can summon. “I am.”

“No, you’re not,” she says, and her voice is mean now. I feel everyone turning to look at me, staring at me. I want to die. Or cry.

Instead I manage to say again, “I am,” as firm as I can.

She glares at me. I turn my head a little, hoping that will help.

“Don’t lie to me,” she says. “And look at me when I talk.”

I don’t know what to do. Tears are stinging my eyes. Everyone is still staring at me. I want to explain, but the words are stuck in my throat. I feel helpless and miserable.

Apparently she decides that I’ve learned my lesson and she continues on with class.

I wipe away tears when no one is looking and pretend I’m fine.

--

I’ve never had normal eyes. I was born with a condition called amblyopia, or lazy eye as it’s more commonly known. My case in particular has always been really bad. My left eye is always out there on its own, doing its own thing.

I can see out of my left eye — and because it’s always sideways, my peripheral vision on that side is great — but I do most everything that’s important out of my right eye. I read out of my right eye, I watch TV out of my right eye, I focus on things out of my right eye.

There are other weird quirks too. If I cover my left eye (the bad one), the right one will go wacky and suddenly I can’t see anything but blur. But if I cover my right eye when I’m looking at an eye chart, I can see the letters out of my left eye, but it’s like there’s a weird disconnect and my brain can’t turn what I’m seeing into something recognizable. I’ve spent so many hours trying to make it work right, but nothing helps.

I had my first surgery when I was six months old to try to correct it and again at eighteen months. Neither one did much.

When I got a little older, I got an eye patch. I was supposed to wear it over my right eye for a couple hours a day so I had to do everything with my left eye. My mom never made me wear it out in public, but at home, I had to watch TV, or later, play with the Nintendo with the patch on. I hated it, but I did it because the other options were worse.

When I turned seven, my eye doctor gave me glasses. I cried when they said I had to wear them to school. None of the other kids had glasses, and I was already tall and awkward. But my mom didn’t relent and off to school I went with them on. Until the summer before middle school when after days of begging and pleading and crying, my mom finally let me leave the glasses at home. It wasn’t like they were helping anyway.


--

I barely look at anyone the rest of our drill team practice, but I try super hard to make sure I don’t mess anything up. Every time I do — every time I’m too slow by half a second — I feel sick, terrified of being called on again and having everyone look at me.

It’s been a long time since something like this has happened. It used to happen a lot — I can barely remember all the kids who used to laugh and point and ask me why I wasn’t looking at them.

But it never came from a teacher. Not until now.

I’m quiet all the way home. I’m never as talkative as my younger sister, so my mom doesn’t notice. Or she doesn’t say anything if she does. I tell her I want to read my book so I go up to my room by myself when we get home, closing my door and ignoring my sister who wants to know if I want to play a game with her.

I lie down on my bed, and I let the tears flow.

I hate my stupid eye. I hate that it won’t work. I hate that no one can fix it.

All I’ve ever wanted is to be normal. And pretty. And my stupid eye makes it so that will never happen.

I get up from my bed and sneak into the bathroom to stand in front of the mirror. As always, my left eye is off to the side even though my right is straight ahead.

Crying makes it worse, but I can’t help it; I cry more.

--

I end up having surgery one more time, during winter break my freshman year of college. It’s more for cosmetic reasons this time. My left eye will never be a functional, working eye, but maybe it can look not so lazy.

The surgery works for a while, but eventually it slips back into how it used to be.

Sometimes, even now, I think about having the surgery done again, but I’m older now and I’ve lived with it my whole life, and most people are tactful enough to never mention it, even if they do notice it.

It haunts me still, though. There are days when I’m feeling insecure about myself that I still stand in front of a mirror and wish I could just be normal. I rarely, if ever, post selfies or any photo of myself on social media because my eye is the first thing I notice, and I can’t help but think it’s what everyone else will notice too. I have a prescription for glasses in a basket on the counter (this one for my right eye and so I can take my contacts out once in a while), but it’s been six months and I still can’t make myself go get a pair.

When Ellie is born, I worry that she will be cursed with my bad eyes. I stare at her eyes every day to see if they look normal. But I take her to an ophthalmologist when she’s six months old, and the doctor declares she is just fine.

I take a deep breath and take her home. Being a child is hard enough; I’m glad she’s at least spared this. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.









Non-fiction. This was really hard for me to write. It's definitely my most touchy subject. Remembering that day in middle school still makes me cry. I barely ever talk about my eye problems, and I've never talked about them in public before. I know in the grand scheme of life, it's not a big thing, but it's always been a big thing to me.

Here's a picture of me and Ellie, from Halloween 2019. It's one of my better ones, but you can see how my left eye drifts to the side.






Thank you for reading! This was written for a new adventure in the therealljidol world — Survivor Idol! You can see all the entries here. Voting should be up on Monday night!

We are now fighting for individual immunity so I would appreciate if you could vote for me if you liked my work!

Comments

[adoptedwriter]

I was born w this too. Luckily I outgrew it. Grandbaby HoneyB had it but it’s gone now as well. My birth mother had it her whole life. Hugs.

[brkfastatholly.livejournal.com]

I'm so proud of you for writing this entry - I know how incredibly hard it was for you to do and you wrote it so well. Even though this is a touchy subject for you, I think it is so relatable because we all have something that we're sensitive about/have been teased for/wish desperately that we could change. I hope that your coach truly did not realize how in the wrong she was in that moment, but ugggghhh what a horrible way to treat a child. Giving you the biggest e-hug. <33333

[eeyore_grrl]

Children can be so cruel; So can adults -- so sorry that you had to deal with that from a teacher. UGH. I have no excuse for her.

[bleodswean]

*HUGS* I want to KILL this person. With words. I'm so sorry this happened to you from an adult who was brokered the task to teach and build up. UGH. I have a special needs child and this hit hard.

You did a great job with this - particularly the way you framed it. It works very well.

Also, I didn't want to put a trigger warning on my entry this week for just one person, but I think my subject matter IS NOT SOMETHING YOU SHOULD READ. I'm not trying to tempt you with this either, it's pregnancy related, I will say that. I'm a-okay, hon, with you skipping it and hope that you do so.

[alycewilson]

You and Ellie are so cute together! I don't know if this helps, but a college friend also has a lazy eye, though his is his right eye. He requests that people let him know before taking a photo, because then he can usually concentrate more and line them up better. But I'm so used to him that I really don't notice it now. It's just how Bill looks to me.

That coach was horrible. These days, she'd have to go to sensitivity training.

[gunwithoutmusic]

You brought back shameful memories of myself in high school, ridiculing the girl with the lazy eye in my class. At least (even though I still feel bad about it) I had the tact even then not to make fun of her to her face. Talking behind someone's back is terrible, though, and I can only imagine how she felt that, and I can only imagine how many times people did make fun of her to her face. How awful.

Thankfully as an adult I have a lot more empathy for people. I take a ton of selfies, but I rarely post them on social media or anything because I'm so insecure about my receding hairline and my weight, and it's very rare that I take a picture of myself where I think, "Wow I look great!"

But then I see things like my mom having a picture of me, my husband, and my niece as the lock screen on her phone, and I think I look absolutely horrible and (worst of all) old in it, but I have to think... 'Clearly my view of myself is distorted; she liked this photo enough to make it the first thing she sees when she pulls her phone out of her pocket.' But it's still hard to beat that feeling, going from being younger when any little thing would get you othered to being older when most people just generally don't give a shit about that kind of stuff anymore.

Well, I went off on a big tangent lol - clearly this resonated with me!

[swirlsofpurple]

Oh *Hugs* So sorry you had to go through this! Thank you for sharing!

I hope you don't mind me saying, you've described this so vividly and in such a heartfelt, real way, it's so visceral.

[halfshellvenus]

What an utterly awful thing to do to a child! I'm so sorry you went through that, especially on top of so many years of grief from other kids. How inredibly mean. :(

[murielle]

I see two beauties!

Honestly, just want to go back in time and throttle that teacher. If she didn't know, she should have apologised as soon as she found out, and publicly if you had been okay with that. I am so sorry that happened to you.

*Hugs*