Can you feel your eyelashes, too?

Photo by Logan Cote

I remember the distinct moment in grade 9 when a friend looked at me and saw the gap. We were standing in the high school gymnasium, at the south west corner by the doors, and she exclaimed “Did you pull out your eye lashes?”.

My secret was out.

I’d tried so hard to cover it up, to fill the gap with different coloured eye liner or curl my eye lashes just right, or even to stop and let them grow back in . . . but evidently, it had not worked.

It continued for a while, worse at night but through the day too. People thought I had trichotillomania and while I do think at times that was part of it (maybe not that specifically but more a stress response that focused on removing body hair - including eye lashes and eye brows) there was more to it.

“Can you feel them moving?” I asked someone once and they looked at me like I was crazy.

I stopped talking about it after that.

I’m 33 now. That first interaction I described, I was 14. That’s roughly 20 years. Twenty years I have been dealing with this off and on, and it was off for a while until the last couple years when I started to develop allergy symptoms. My eyes have felt constantly swollen, they ooze things that no one wants to see, and during the night I sometimes cannot even open my eyes without using my hand to move my eye lid because it is stuck in place. I’ve told my current partner I can feel my eye lashes and I can’t stop, and while he does not shame me or dismiss me, it has been evident by the response that this is not a common thing.

But today, someone finally told me it was real.

What I have been feeling and this constant discomfort, is not made up.

I don’t think this is something everyone will understand. Not everyone has something that has bugged them so much, wreaked havoc on their self-esteem and interpersonal relationships, and brought so much shame and been gaslit (though not always intentionally) by everyone in their life, for two decades.

Maybe you have, though. Maybe you have that thing, too. And if you do, I am sorry for every single time you’ve been dismissed. Or for every single time you internalized other people’s lack of understanding as being your own too-muchness.

You are not too much. And whatever pain or discomfort you feel - whether it can be explained by something tangible or not - it is real. And I am sorry you are experiencing it. And I hope that one day, you will receive the type of recognition I got to experience today.

I was at a routine check-up with my ophthalmologist and he commented on how thick my lashes are. I replied “It’s funny you know, they used to be way thicker and about twice as long. I’ve pulled them all out more than once”.

He then asked if they bugged me to which I replied “YES! I can feel them but people think I’m crazy for saying that”.

He looked at me very calmly and said “You’re not. It makes sense” and went on to explain why.

I finally had answers, and someone finally believed me and said I was right for feeling what I felt.

It may seem so simple, but it’s not. In that one two minute interaction, that doctor made a difference of 20 years of self-shaming, and social ostracization. He made me feel normal, and right.

I just needed someone to believe me, and he did. And because of that, I was also able to start believing myself. To stop feeling like I was making excuses and should just be able to be like other people.

And now, I have someone I can talk to about it without shame; And I have something I can try to make it better.

Two minutes, 20 years of shame, and so much disregarded discomfort . . . And now everything can change because one doctor took the time to really see me.

There’s a lot more healing to go with this one . . . but for now, this will be enough. And maybe not pulling out any eye lashes today. But also if I do, it’s okay. It may not be ideal, but I am allowed to be comfortable. And it is okay.