Keratoconus is an eye condition in which the cornea—the clear, dome-shaped front surface of the eye—progressively thins and bulges outward into a cone shape. This change disrupts how light enters the eye, leading to blurred and distorted vision. It can cause symptoms such as increased sensitivity to light and glare, difficulty with night vision, and frequent changes in eyeglass prescriptions. These symptoms often begin in adolescence or early adulthood and tend to progress over time.
But beyond the clinical definition, Keratoconus is a profoundly personal journey.
👓 My Story
I started wearing glasses at the age of 12. I remember telling my dad, "I can't see the blackboard." Suddenly, I was in front of an eye chart and asked, "What do you see?"
Like clockwork, my parents took me for an eye exam each year. For over 18 years, I visited eye doctors faithfully, but it wasn't until much later that I received a diagnosis. Looking back, I might have found answers sooner if I had known the right questions to ask or how to describe what I saw.
After moving across three countries and five cities, I finally had a moment of clarity—an awakening. The blurry pieces came together, and a strange sense of relief came with the diagnosis. It all made sense.
🌞 What It Feels Like
To me, Keratoconus feels like living in a world where light behaves differently. It's as if the brightness of the universe has been dialed up, nudging me to wear stylish shades—not just for fashion but also for comfort.
My vision turns ordinary moments into abstract art. Faces sometimes appear doubled, and car headlights at night stretch into dazzling halos, like stars wearing crowns.
It's a unique lens on life—one that transforms the mundane into the extraordinary.
💛 Living With It
Keratoconus affects a small percentage of the population, but its impact is deeply felt by those of us living with it.
It influences how we clean our homes (think: judging dust depth by light glare!), how much brightness we can tolerate indoors, and how we navigate the world. Not all days are the same. Some are gentle. Some are overwhelming. But every day, this journey teaches me something new about light, resilience, and finding beauty in unexpected places.
