I know how to see now, but that was not the case a few months ago. My diagnosis of alternating exotropia in 7th grade came with a severe lack of depth perception and an extreme lazy eye that alternated from left to right. I only saw through one eye at a time, and the other would drift away. This was off-putting because no one knew where I was looking and my first impression always left people questioning. Since I could never make direct eye contact, meeting new people was uncomfortable, I felt embarrassed about not being able to look straight, and I think because of my eyes, I never got a call back from the few fast-food places I interviewed at for my first job. It was something I thought about constantly, and it hurt even more because unfortunately, it was not something with an easy fix. In addition, the lack of depth perception made everyday tasks difficult. For years, I could not pour liquid into a cup without spilling. Even at school, I could not grab or give papers to peers or teachers without accidentally shoving the paper into their hands. At work, I was always dropping objects because I couldn’t make sense of the distance between my hand and the item; however, my final push toward surgery was when I could not gauge the distance between my car and the one in front of me quickly enough. As a result, I rear-ended a car. Fortunately, the driver of the other vehicle was unharmed, but I knew I could not continue like this, knowing that I could harm others or cause more damage. But I was afraid of change. The specialist had said I would need to wear glasses full-time. That may not seem like a big deal, but to me, it was relearning how to see because it changed how my eyes functioned. I was fearful of the fact that I would never see without glasses again. What if I can’t drive with glasses? What would I do if I forgot my glasses somewhere? What if my prescription never stops increasing? It was too much change for me to adjust to. Adapting took months, and when surgery was finally around the corner, my journey with self-confidence was just beginning. Perseverance quickly became my best friend after my life-altering procedure. Since it was necessary that I learn how to maintain eye contact, I spent months trying to become comfortable with it. My persistence has led to undeniable progress, and I could not be more proud. Besides perseverance, I have learned to embrace change because even under unfavorable circumstances; it is not something to resent. Surgery opened my mind to the idea that change is the key to unlocking adventures in life that foster courage, compassion, and resilience. What I once thought was a limitation has proved to be a catalyst for growth and taught me invaluable lessons. A year ago, I would shut down at the idea of change. No matter how small, I was always fearful of the outcomes. Now, I am learning to keep an open mind that overcomes challenges with determination and the understanding that the hardest changes lead to the most meaningful revelations. Just as I learned to truly see the physical world around me, I'm now eager to discover new ways of seeing: seeing opportunities where others see obstacles, seeing strength in vulnerability, and seeing how each challenge, no matter how daunting, can transform us in unexpected ways.