Bright Lights And My Eyes

Back when I wore strong glasses and then thick hard plastic contacts, bright lights seemed like an assault to my eyeballs. It felt like laser beams or daggers were coming toward me, and I recoiled in alarm. The last thing I wanted to do was “welcome the light”!

Many years later when I undertook this vision improvement journey and eventually got out of my contacts and glasses, I was much more comfortable with strong light, as long as it wasn’t coming straight into my eyes. I even taught a few clients how to be more comfortable with bright light and lessen their photo-phobia. You can read one example of this here.

The pupil in a healthy eye automatically expands to let in more light when the surroundings are dim, then constricts if the light is brighter. Turning on the lights indoors as soon as the sun starts going down, or slapping on sunglasses whenever you go outdoors on a sunny day, is interfering with the pupil’s natural adaptation to the level of illumination. Even though I thought I had good visual habits, not wearing sunglasses and letting my eyes easily adjust to light and darkness, glare still bothered me a lot. Driving was stressful enough, and when low bright sun bore into my eyes below my visor, I felt like I was in a war zone. What was I missing?

Although I was put in glasses at 5 years old, my mother has told me she knew I would need them when I was only 3 “because your pupils were so big”. I don’t remember much about that early time, but I’m guessing I was pretty anxious. My younger sister was born a year and 9 months after me, so my mother was probably quite busy, if not overwhelmed, with the 2 of us. She got glasses herself as a teen and never took them off.

A key piece of this is that the pupils in our eyes also expand when we’re frightened, since we need to take in all the information about the threat to deal with it and return to safety. Unfortunately, if bright lights don’t make us feel safe, our pupils will expand, which will make the light brighter and we’ll feel even less safe. As much as I’ve tried to convince my brain that light is a good thing, it never overrode that feeling of fear and danger in my cells, perceiving glare as an enemy.

When I bring to mind a peaceful contented pussycat, sitting in the warmth of the sun and purring, I picture its eyes as slits, barely open. Small pupils indicate relaxation in humans. This may not be the same for cats, though I like this image, conveying “I am safe and all is well”. Once again, the answer to my vision question of how I can move closer to a state of relaxation and away from strain, to help my visual system function optimally, is that I have to feel safe. Then I’ll breathe more deeply and slowly, my shoulders will relax, and I’ll see more easily and clearly, glare or not.