When I was about 8 years old, I started to notice that sometimes people would glance over their shoulder while I was telling them something. I soon realized that they were trying to see if I was talking to someone else behind them.
I tried to figure out why this was happening. One day upon looking in the mirror, I saw what they saw. I was looking at my own eyes, yet my reflection wasn't looking directly back at me! Try as I might, I couldn't get my left eye to straighten itself. It were as if there was another Michelle standing right in front of me that refused to make eye contact.
I knew that I had undergone surgery at the age of two to correct my left "floating" eye, but I didn't realize that although better, it was never 100% corrected.
Time after time while growing up, people looked away while I talked to them. I cannot tell you how painful it was for me. Soon, I learned that I could "make myself busy" while talking to people so that I could interact with them without making them feel uncomfortable. I could doodle, pretend to pick lint off my clothes, or do anything else but look at them while we chatted.
As I got older, and after a good amount of studying my eyes in the mirror, I also learned that I had a "good side". If a person was on my right, I could position my head just so and then I could maintain eye contact with them and they wouldn't look over their shoulder! If I could manage it, I always maneuvered around so that anyone I was talking to was on my right. And I would just busy myself if a person was directly in front of me or on my left. So, I learned some coping skills, but it was extremely difficult emotionally. My self-esteem suffered because of my lazy eye.
When I was a teenager, I realized that by fiddling with something and not making eye contact while having a conversation, I came across as meek, distracted, or bored. These were not things that I wanted to be perceived as. But as awful as those feelings were, it was better than the alternative of people glancing over their shoulder while I chatted with them.
Before I knew it, I was a grown up. Inside I felt happy, confident, and secure. But all it took was someone trying to figure else "who else I was talking to" that brought my emotions crashing down. I'd instantly turn my head, try to hide my embarrassment, and continue the conversation.
My husband and I talked about my lazy eye on quite a few occasions. He could even tell when I was extremely tired because my eye would turn out more than usual. As I was approaching my 30's it was becoming even more emotionally bothersome. It had seemed that it was slowly turning more and more outward.
When my husband suggested I ask our eye doctor about the possibility of having it corrected, I didn't waste one minute. After a few appointments of him looking at my eyes, taking measurements, and giving me information, we decided to go for it. I was full of mixed emotions. I wanted this fixed so badly, yet it was surgery (!) and it was expensive. Because I would never have binocular vision after the correction, it was considered cosmetic and not medically necessary.
In January of 2004, I went under the knife. The first few weeks after the surgery was difficult. I think I had the eye covered for the first 3 days after the surgery. It was terribly red and swollen, I couldn't focus out of it, and it was extremely sensitive to light. I didn't really even attempt to try to look at its position in the eye socket.
After those first few days passed, I decided that I couldn't keep it covered forever, and needed to let it breathe. It looked like I had met up with a thug in a dark alley and it hurt like hell, but when I looked in the mirror, I was fully looking back at myself.
After a few weeks, I was completely healed... both physically and emotionally.
I could look directly at people while talking and they didn't glance over their shoulder or look away!!! The first few months after the surgery was surreal. I knew I could make eye contact with people now without fear, yet I was always prepared to look away. I never had to.
The other day I was looking through photographs from a few years ago. I stopped in surprise when I came across one of me and there I was with my lazy eye. I reflected upon that time and how it made me feel.
It's been two years now since my surgery. It's one of the best things I've ever done for myself. My outward confidence now matches my inside. I can now show my sincerity with eye contact while listening to someone's sad news rather than looking uncomfortable or uninterested by looking away.
This has allowed me to be me, and I love it. I don't try to position myself to be on someone's left during conversation. I don't angle my head in a certain way when a camera comes out now.
It has been very freeing.
