When I was little I would stare into the lights around my room. It would create little spots in my vision; flickering and dancing that would eventually fade away. As they would face every time the every shrinking flickering dot would become this image of a woman's face. She was beautiful. She captivated me. I would do this constantly growing up. I would stare into my ceiling lights, in the lights coming through my window, anywhere - if it meant I could see her. I would try staring at larger lights hoping that final flickering dot was larger and I would be able to see her more clearly. She stayed with me for most of my childhood. It wasn't until I was around high-school that I lose memory of seeing her. Which makes sense since this was when the lights, in general, faded from my eyes. But who was she?
I like to think she was me. She is me.
If you ever wish to share your story or ask a question you can always email me at: dear[at]thewomaninmyeye[dot]org