Exposure to domestic violence and child abuse as a young child was a reality in my world. Even today, I can see how such an environment was both injurious but also a motivating factor to the person I became today. However, one detail I did not realize was connected: my eyesight.
Although I was a skinny, awkward young child, my 20/20 eyesight made others enviable. I remember sitting in a booth at the local breakfast joint when someone asked what was playing at the movie theater down the street. This was well before the smartphone, so I peered down the road and read off the movie titles and times. My mom’s jaw dropped, “You can see all the way down there?” I sat back in the seat, and responded, “Why? Can’t you?” It was then that I realized that I had superhuman eyesight. I could see near and far without any issue – like Superman.
This all changed when I looked up from a cup of hot chocolate in the courthouse cafeteria at the age of twelve. I realized, everything across the room on the walls was blurry. I blamed it on the tears. I blamed it on the musky environment known as the Wake County Courthouse. I blamed it on everything except a change in my eyesight. My parent’s ongoing court matters could not have dissolved my superhuman eyesight, could it?
It was not until years later at an appointment with my eye doctor that I learned more about the physical development of a child and the impact of trauma. Especially as a child in an unhealthy environment over numerous years, the toll of the fights, the abuse, and the stress associated with continuous appearances in Court materialized in the disappearance of my superhuman eyesight. The extent of the damage was exposed when I went for my driver’s ed class and my eyesight was checked. I went to the eye doctor, and I got my first pair of eyeglasses around the age of fifteen.
Although everything was clear again, I was a little frustrated that I had to carry around these “external secondary eyes.” I tried to take care of them, but alas, I can be clumsy at times and they fell off my face often enough to require superglue. Yes…I was that kid.
“Seeing with clear vision” – well that has a new ring to it now. It was during my “superglued glasses” teenage years that my mother was able to separate herself from my abusive father, that we were able to find a safe home with the help of my brother, and that we were able to start that next chapter. From there, I was able to pursue my dream of becoming an attorney, a family law attorney to be exact.
Although my parent’s divorce did not make me go blind, I find it very interesting that my eyesight prescription has barely changed in the decades since my first pair of eyeglasses. Maybe, just maybe…we should keep in mind the unpredictable by very real effects of divorce and trauma on a child. And maybe we should all reflect on the better avenues of handling family conflict and family law matters.
If you or someone you know is enduring a family law matter with children, our Modern Legal Team is here to help.
Written by: Theresa E. Viera
