My #BeReal guest today is Kerry Kijewski.
I started this series to showcase real people with real struggles doing real people things. I don’t want my daughter to spend her time trying to keep up with some invisible standard. Our children deserve a future full of real people to look up to. Real people like us teaching them how to overcome real life obstacles.
Kerry reminds us to take the time to look deeper. Some people are just waiting to give you more of themselves. Thank you Kerry for giving us more of you!
We’re constantly told that it doesn’t matter how others see us. What matters is how we see ourselves. I don’t know which one is more real. Which one is the correct answer?
I fool myself, often, about what is really and truly there to see. When others see me, I don’t know what that image truly is.
If you see me, do I immediately come off as being visually impaired?
Strangely, the term “blind” seems too harsh, strong, and bold and I have the urge to use “visually impaired” instead.
My physical scars are only visible when I choose not to cover them up. The advent of clothing makes this almost too easy.
The small one on my chest, on the right side, this one isn’t so easily hidden. That’s the time I had a line inserted to receive life-saving dialysis treatments. I rarely ever bat an eye anymore at the thought that it might be spotted. People often notice, but aren’t sure if they should ask me about its origin.
I hesitate on leaving the house, without the reassurance from one who knows me, that my left eye matches my right one. I dislike the fake and the artificial. This is more for people, but when others see my artificial (fake) eye, I feel exposed to an uncomfortable degree. This is only one small part of me.
My eye is not made of glass. It will not break or shatter. I am learning that I will not shatter into a million pieces either. Nothing can break me so badly that I can not put myself back together again.
It does not possess any of the magical powers of which Professor Moody had in the Harry Potter books. I’ve seen less, since I got it, than I once did. This, however, hasn’t stopped me from holding onto a vision for what I want my life and a better world to look like.
I don’t like that others see any version of me, of which is beyond my control, but that’s how it’s been for so much of my life.
I’ve been seen, first and foremost, as the blind girl – nice and kind (as it says in my yearbook) but different. It’s been enough to keep people at a distance, unsure how close to get. As if it might be contagious.
I do know all the positive qualities about my character and my worth. I know my sense of humour is sharp, witty, and dry with sarcasm. What I don’t know is how to show other people these things, how to get around the inevitable and the obvious.
I try to push away my shyness and my quiet demeanor, my fear of being rejected, to reveal the loads of things I’m dying to tell you all. And so I’m starting right here.
Its been a lifelong minefield, but I won’t ever stop trying. There are loads of different ways of seeing other people, oneself, and the world we all share.
Kerry is a writer and blogger. She was born visually impaired. She writes to make sense of the world around her.
She has a Certificate of Creative Writing and has written a novel for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo).
She had a short essay published on BREVITY’s Nonfiction Blog and just recently she was included in a romance anthology:
You can find her, as Her Headache, at her blog:
Or on Facebook and Twitter:
Kerry lives in Ontario, Canada with her literary-themed dog and cat: Dobby and Lumos.