Accepting my blindness came down to choosing freedom over fear
Writer overcomes obstacle one white cane tap at a time
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Accepting my blindness was a long, hard-fought process. My blindness is caused by Bardet-Biedl syndrome, a rare genetic condition. For the longest time, I did not want to accept my blindness. However, once I finally came to terms with my reality, I felt a sense of freedom.
For years, I tried to hide my blindness. I did not let others know I could not see, and I simply faked it until I made it. Honestly, this was hard. It would have been much easier to just live my reality, but I was embarrassed and not ready to let the world know I could not see.
My struggle with acceptance showed up clearly in my relationship with my white cane. The tug-of-war began in the summer of 2013, after I graduated high school and had been accepted to Oklahoma State University. Going to OSU was my biggest dream coming true, but before I could go, I needed to prove I could safely navigate campus with a white cane.
That summer, I worked with an orientation and mobility coach. I memorized routes, counted steps, learned landmarks, and practiced until I had the skills I needed. But having the skills did not mean I was ready to be seen using them.
When I got to college, I had the cane skills, but I still chose not to use them because I did not want to be seen as different. I didn’t want to give anyone a reason to tease me again. So instead of using the tool that would let people know I could not see, I risked getting hurt and looking like a deer in headlights while walking around campus.
 I was choosing fear over my own safety
Looking back, I realize I was choosing fear over my own safety. I was more afraid of being seen as blind than I was of getting hurt.
That fear did not come out of nowhere. After years of being teased, I had learned that standing out could feel dangerous. I wanted to blend in. I wanted to be like everyone else. And in my mind, using a cane felt like announcing something about myself that I was not ready to accept.
The turning point in accepting my blindness came during residential treatment for severe OCD. In order to fully participate in the program, I had to become proficient with using a white cane. At first, I did not even want to think about my cane, but after weeks of difficult work, something slowly began to change.
As I began using it, I slowly became more comfortable with it. I learned that using my cane did not take freedom away from me. It actually gave me more freedom.
I also began to realize that many of my fears about using a cane were not reality. I had been so afraid of judgment, but more often than not, people were kind. Some people held doors open. Some asked if I needed help. Instead of the judgment I feared, I was often met with understanding.
Now, my cane is my best friend
For years, holding onto my mom or dad felt like a security blanket. It was familiar and comfortable, but my cane gave me independence. It allowed me to move through the world with more confidence instead of always relying on someone else’s eyes.
I used to be so scared to even touch my cane. Now, it is my best friend — my helping hand, my sidekick, and a tool that gives me confidence and independence.
Accepting my blindness did not mean I loved being blind. It meant I stopped fighting my reality and started using the tools that helped me live more freely. Acceptance did not mean blindness became easy. It meant I no longer had to hide from it. It meant choosing freedom over fear.
It did not happen all at once. It happened one step, one route, and one brave cane tap at a time.
Note: Rare Obesity News is strictly a news and information website about these disorders. It does not provide medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. This content is not intended to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. Always seek the advice of your physician or another qualified health provider with any questions you may have regarding a medical condition. Never disregard professional medical advice or delay in seeking it because of something you have read on this website. The opinions expressed in this column are not those of Rare Obesity News or its parent company, Bionews, and are intended to spark discussion about issues pertaining to rare obesity disorders.
