The Vision of Success

            Truth moment: I have been blind for most of my life. And I'm not referring to the physical blindness in my right eye. (I haven't had vision in my right eye since I was 13, and at 25, I got a prosthetic eye.) No, I am referring to the lack of vision I had for myself, my goals, and my future. I created this narrative at such a young age that I was broken and damaged. Every time I tried to achieve something, I pulled myself back. I couldn't ever accept any compliment or accomplishment. I couldn't see the magic I was making.

            Yes, I walked around smiling, always believing there was always a bright side, with a glimmer of hope and happiness in reach. I set goals and made to-do lists, diligently crossing them off thinking success would come. But I never actually believed it to be possible. I kept wishing for more, never truly appreciating the highs while dwelling in the lows. I'd often tell myself I wasn't enough; yet, I was inspiring others to chase their dreams and believe in themselves.

            In 2014, I began a journey that would ultimately compel me to reevaluate my past, present, and future. I signed up for the Toastmasters International Speech contest for our club. I quickly put together an eight-minute speech (Identity Blindess) about being blind in my right eye, a topic I had barely spoken about. I won the contest and advanced to the next round, followed by two more rounds. Within months, I edited, rehearsed, and performed that speech multiple times. That speech didn’t just inspire others—it transformed me. It pushed me to reflect on my past, present, and future. Years later, I turned Identity Blindness into a workshop for college students. In 2019, I wrote a rough draft of a memoir with the same title.

            What I learned through all of this was that my disability had impacted me in more ways than I could have ever imagined. Being blind in my right eye shaped who I was as a person, and for the first time in my life, I openly admitted to having a disability. I felt empowered and ready to embrace the world with this identity. I paraded around, looking at all I had done, despite having only one eye. Oh my, I'm amazing.

            In 2023, a new shift occurred. I backed into a parked car while reversing. This $900 accident caused me to realize my limitations. Then I had another mishap with driving, and my anxiety skyrocketed. Every time I got in the car, I felt tense. I realized how difficult it was to park or drive on highways without depth perception, how the entire right side of the car being nonexistent. I cried. I felt defeated. I believed my disability had finally caught up with me, and it won.

            In March of 2025, I went back to counseling with one mission: to confront the little girl who lost her vision at 13, comfort and heal her. Make her aware of all the effects of this trauma.

            These past few months, I've been reflecting more on this aspect of my life than I ever have before. I'm changing the narrative. I'm not broken. I have superpowers. I even wrote a blog titled I'm a Superhero because I see people for who they truly are. I'm recognizing I have a disability, but I'm not limited.

            Since embracing this part of myself, my confidence has grown. I'm showing up to events with excitement. I'm marketing on social media, even getting on camera. I'm sending emails to bookstores and libraries. I'm taking steps to boost sales and grow my business. I’m not just completing tasks—I want to do them. I’m driven. I’m proud. Additionally, I researched support groups for individuals with prosthetic eyes and inquired about the application process for accessible parking.

            And through all this, I realized something big: I was afraid of success. I had convinced myself I didn’t deserve it. But now? I see just how much I’ve earned it. I’ve fought for everything I’ve achieved. I’m no longer ashamed of being blind. And I’m not using it as a crutch either. It’s simply a part of my story—a reminder of how far I’ve come and how much further I can go. This entire experience has helped me see myself in a new light, to recognize what I'm capable of. I'm no longer blinded by the limitations I've set for myself or striving for impossible expectations. This is only the beginning of my journey, and I see bright things ahead.