From fear to defiance: how I learned to overcome my biggest obstacles and find confidence.
September 8, 2025
Let's be real. Sometimes, being blind can get tough, not just because we constantly have to adapt to an inaccessible world, but also because of the emotions that come with it. Embarrassment, insecurity, fear, annoyance, and envy are just a few of the feelings many blind people experience. I've had my fair share of these emotions, and it took me a while to figure out how to work with them. We can explore this together, and I promise I'll try not to make it too depressing.
When I was little, I'd refuse to take my cane with me outside and wouldn't let my picture be taken with it. I knew I needed it to travel safely, but I thought it made me look bad. Instead, I'd just hold hands with people. At the eye doctor, I'd get mad at my parents for talking about my eye condition, even though that's why we were there. So, I know a thing or two about being embarrassed about blindness.
Eventually, I grew out of it. With time and encouragement from my parents and mobility teacher, I slowly became comfortable with my disability. I realized that it's okay to be blind, just like it's okay to be short. It's just who I am, and it's not my fault. I needed a cane to travel safely and independently, just like a short person needs a stool to reach a high window.
Of course, that's not the end of the story. In fourth grade, just as I was getting comfortable, I met my school bully. She would call me names and make fun of me for being blind, calling me "the blind girl" and laughing. She'd tell me no one cared about me. I began to feel insecure again.
When I told my dad what was happening, he told me to tell her to stop in a loud voice. My teacher told me that when a person is mean to you, it says more about them than it does about you. I realized it wasn’t my fault that she was mean to me. Her bullying only showed that I was being targeted, and she was the cause.
Next, I faced fear. Throughout my years in school, my mobility instructor and I would work on outdoor travel, a skill I’d need for life—for work, shopping, visiting friends, and getting to appointments. But when crossing streets, I was scared. Even though my mobility teacher taught me the skills to know when it's safe to cross and how to walk in a straight line, I was still afraid of getting hit by a car. I just assumed I couldn’t do it.
My mobility teacher never left my side. She'd stay close to make sure I was using my skills correctly. She'd tell me stories about her older students who used the subway on their own every day. This gave me encouragement and helped me realize that independent travel is possible. If a blind person can navigate the subway by themselves, they can definitely cross a street. It was just a matter of knowing the adaptive skills to travel safely.
Even after all those lessons, I still envied those with sight. I would sit next to my grandparents as they read the newspaper and wish I could do the same. I'd spiral, thinking, "If I wasn't blind, I could read the newspaper. Why can't I tell what color my shoes are?" I was stuck in a loop of jealousy and self-pity.
That is, until I discovered the Envision app. One day, I was using VoiceOver on my phone to browse the web. I knew VoiceOver could read things on a screen, but I was surprised when I learned that Envision could scan and read text from paper. All I had to do was take a picture of the page of the newspaper I wanted to read, and voila. I could read the newspaper just like my grandparents! It made me wonder what else I assumed I couldn't do just because I hadn't found a way yet.
I learned fast. There were so many things I needed to find a way to adapt. For example, my touchscreen air fryer. None of the buttons had braille or raised textures. My first solution was to use tactile stickers, but they kept coming off. I was annoyed, but I wouldn't give up. Each time I lost hope before, there was always a solution I hadn't known about. So I did some research and found out about Ally app (Android,iOS).
I was fascinated. I pointed my camera toward the air fryer and, using the Ally app, asked where the button was to increase the time. Ally gave me perfect directions, and my French fries came out edible and delicious. The annoyance was gone, and I was incredibly impressed.
I still get a little flustered when I can't find a way to adapt something that's inaccessible, but I know that if there's a will, there's a way. I've learned that my disability doesn't define my potential. Instead, it's about how I work with it and cope. The adaptive tools I use are like stools for short people—they're just there to help me reach what's otherwise out of reach. I hope this serves as a source of empowerment, and I hope I was able to keep my promise of not making this blog post too depressing. I'm confident that with the continuous growth of technology, more and more tools will become available to the blind community, lessening our frustrations and making even more things possible.
Copyright © Envision 2025. All rights reserved.
