Learning to love my asian eyes.
At six years old, I watched the other children mock my small eyes as they pulled their eyes back.
At ten years old, my friend asked if I could see properly or if I saw slits. But she was just joking.
At fifteen years old, I was editing my eyes to be bigger before I posted a picture of myself.
At seventeen years old, I was getting my makeup done for prom. The makeup artist said, “I’m going to give you eyelid creases.” I said thank you.
At eighteen years old, I researched eyelid surgery but deep down I knew I’d never go through with it.
At twenty years old, the guy I was with said he liked big eyes. I felt insecure.
Another guy said he loved my eyes and that they were beautiful. I didn’t believe him.
At twenty-one years old, I took this picture and saw the beauty in my asian eyes. I noticed that they are a lighter brown than I thought they were. I like how they glow when the light hits them. They make me feel elegant and mysterious. For the first time, I love my eyes.
They help me read fascinating books that teach me new things. They allow me to see the beautiful things in life. They remind me of my heritage.
My eyes are beautiful and they are powerful. They always have been.