The confidence my contact lenses give me

Born to emmetropic parents, I would go on to become a –11.00 dioptre myope. Early on, my parents had noticed that I might have a problem with my eyes, and subsequent trips to the orthoptist at the hospital eye revealed a large exotropia and myopia.

They say in life that you may not remember what was said, but you will remember how you felt. One such moment came at the school eye test. I already had spectacles by then. There were two of us in the class who wore spectacles – a boy who was long-sighted and had a squint and a patch on his spectacles, and me.

Our eye tests were left until last. I remember my teacher telling me to do my best, and that I smiled back confidently. I knew it was going to be ok – I had seen my optometrist, and I knew I could read the letters.

Unfortunately, this is not what happened. I was asked to sit on the spot, the screener said she would show me the letters on the chart and that I was to read them – but first I must take my spectacles off, which I duly did.

When I responded that the chart just looked white, the screener did not believe me, and shouted at me to read the letters. I started to crawl towards the chart as that was the only way I was going to see the letters, and promptly got told off. I asked if I could do the test with my spectacles on, and was told no. A shy but confident child left the room crestfallen, feeling that there was something wrong with wearing spectacles. It’s nearly 50 years since that incident, but still vivid in the memory for the impact it had.

Losing confidence

My optician was wonderful, and by all appearances was either a magician or at least very clever, because he instinctively knew when I would not be able to see any letters on the chart without my spectacles. He made it seem like a magic trick when he said, “the letters have disappeared now, haven’t they?”

He knew to only ask what I could see with my current spectacles, and what I could see with what would be my new spectacles. Back then it was a choice of clear, pink, blue or tortoiseshell NHS 524 frames. I had started with pink, and dabbled with an odd blue, but as I got older chose clear – I think in some psychological delusion that they would seem to disappear.

The chip in my confidence had occurred as a five-year-old, trying to explain to an adult that the letters on the chart disappeared when I took my spectacles off and not being believed, and as I grew up with every dioptre my vision changed and my confidence ebbed progressively away.

Back then, it was not fashionable to wear spectacles. Nowadays, with the likes of Harry Potter and figures in popular culture embracing spectacles and celebrating wearing them, it has become more acceptable and less stigmatised. I chuckle now, as an optometrist, that children used to cry when they were told they needed spectacles, and now they cry when told they don’t.

Children used to cry when they were told they needed spectacles, and now they cry when told they don’t

Discovering contact lenses

I had suffered the barrage of jokes about being four-eyed and had to take it on the chin, along with those who wished to point out that my spectacles must be broken as the lenses were sticking out from the frame – as other spectacles didn’t do that, there must be something wrong with mine.

Before my last drop of self-confidence ebbed away, salvation came in the form of contact lenses when I was 16 years old. The only option then was gas permeable lenses. They were fitted too small, so I had lots of flare and glare, with a fitting set of –3.00D when I am –11.00D. I was unable to see, and it felt like the worst case of an eyelash being stuck in my eyes – not just on one eye, but both.

I was asked whether I would like to go ahead and said yes, because I had had 16 years and 11 dioptres of reasons to, paired with withering self-belief. It did not matter what it took – I was going to find out what it was like to see without spectacles on.

There was the initial period of adjustment, from having to walk back to a mirror that I had passed to check the reflection as I didn’t recognise myself, to realising how many times I had been gluing my index finger to the bridge of my nose to keep my spectacles in optimum position.

It took several trials with contact lenses to realise that I just needed to blink to clear the vision, and that I didn’t need to push back my spectacles to achieve the ideal focus.

Onwards and upwards

I embraced contact lens wear, and did not look back. It has been nearly 40 years now, and in that time, I have walked around most of the time convinced I am an emmetrope – that is until I take the lenses out at night and the blur returns.

Familiar to anyone who lives with a sight challenged person is the tap, tap on the bedside table in a morning. Without being able to see, touch is the only way to locate your spectacles – the first thing to reach for in the morning.

I have since converted to soft daily disposable lenses, which are far more comfortable. These days, with the advent of modern spectacle lens materials, my spectacles have not only got lighter, but thinner too. Now, there are many days where I potter about the house in spectacles. It is amazing to think we have myopia management options today in both spectacles and contact lenses. The children of the future hopefully will not become –11.00D myopic.

On the slopes

Contact lens wearing not only gave me my confidence back, it opened up new possibilities, one of which was sport. I had always been hopeless at sports – I was not a bad swimmer, but that was it. I just thought I wasn’t sporty, but someone told me, ‘you just haven’t found the right sport yet.’

It gave me the impetus to give sport another go. Without contact lenses, I would never have learnt to ski or gone on to become a ski instructor, experiencing amazing mountain vistas. Neither would I have taken up golf or running. Even as an optometrist, I was slow to realise how my vision challenges as a spectacle-wearer shaped what I engaged with.

Even as an optometrist, I was slow to realise how my vision challenges as a spectacle-wearer shaped what I engaged with

I often think, had I had lived in a different era, about how different my life may have been. I like to think if I had lived centuries ago, I would have been ok as I would have been looked after by some wealthy sponsor who I could have embroidered fancy clothes for – having fabulous vision within a 10 cm range, I would have been able to make the smallest of stitches.

We can all take vision for granted, but there are many places in the world where access to sight correction is not readily available. This can impact significantly on a person’s earning potential, and ultimately their own survival. As an emerging presbyope, I know there are many in the world who struggle to access simple reading spectacles, and as a consequence have a third less earning potential. Sight matters.

I count my blessings every day that not only do I have access to sight correction, but also contact lenses, which make me feel like everyone else. It is such a privilege to be an optometrist – to be able to help people look after their eyes, but to ensure they can see as clearly as possible.

I could not live without my contact lenses – they opened up a world of excellent vision for me, despite being –11.00D, and they allowed me to live my life to the fullest. With my new-found confidence, they changed my life.