My eyes are blue. I’ve always been told how striking the shade of my eye color was, ever since I was a little girl. Ever since I was in first grade I’ve worn glasses that have covered up my striking blue eyes. In sixth grade I finally convinced my mother I was mature enough for contacts. I sat in the optomotrist’s office for 2 hours trying to put my contacts in. The concept of touching my eyes and feeling their gooey wetness sent shudders down my spine. I wore contacts over my eyes for eleven years. Every morning and every night I would cleanse my contacts with solution and put them in and take them out. This summer I got lasik eye surgery. I worried that I would finally be able to wake up and see, but I wouldn’t recognize my own striking eyes.