If you tried on my glasses, you wouldn’t suddenly be catapulted into a blurry world, stuttering, “Oh my God, you’re blind!” I’m not blind. I’m nearsighted, which means I can see things that are close to me, but things that are far away never quite come into focus. I’ve had at least one pair of glasses since middle school, when my mom realized that I couldn’t read a billboard across the parking lot while we were eating sandwiches in the car. (The memory is vivid because of her sheer panic that something was wrong with me.)
I embraced glasses, and the excitement of getting a new pair has never worn down. I get a new pair every year, and I keep them in a tidy line on a shelf in my closet. Glasses aren’t a burden; they’re another way for me to express myself. That’s why I’ve never even kind of, sort of considered getting contact lenses – until a co-worker asked me about my wedding.
To be clear, I don’t need glasses to function. Even though I can read my computer screen, I tend to wear my glasses all day when I’m at work, because I get a headache when I don’t – eye strain is real, people. I wear them when I watch TV, and I (should) wear them when I drive. That’s generally fine, but my wedding day is a whole different ball game.
My fiancé and I have put thought into every detail of the ceremony and reception. I want to see each lavender Lisianthus and white Stephanotis in my bridesmaids’ bouquets. I want to see the picture frames displaying the clever names of the dinner tables and the details of the four-tier cake. Most of all, I want to see the groom’s face when I walk down the aisle and the faces of each of the people who took time out of their lives and faced the expense of coming to our destination wedding.
Blah, blah, blah. So why don’t I just wear my glasses?
Because I’m vain. I don’t want to have glasses in my wedding pictures, even though my current pair of crystal-framed Dahl glasses from Warby Parker would actually suit a wedding quite well. I want people to see my fresh ‘n’ flirty no-makeup makeup look, undisturbed by glasses. I don’t want to look back in 30 years and have my kids laugh at me, giggling that they can’t believe those glasses were even in fashion. (Note to my future children: you’re being rude.)
Glasses are my best friend 364 days a year, but on my wedding day? Nah. I’ll have to buy my very first pair of contact lenses and hope that my eyes don’t flatly reject them . . . which might be a thing. You don’t know. Part of me feels guilty, like I shouldn’t kowtow to society’s standards of beauty. I should just wear my beloved glasses! But I don’t want to. I want to see everything in laser-sharp detail, and I want my face to be free of obstruction. And there’s nothing wrong with that.