Losing my sight was something I never imagined would happen. When it did, it felt like the world I knew faded all at once. I woke up facing questions I could not answer. How would I continue school. How would I take care of myself. How would I still reach the future I always dreamed of when everything suddenly felt unfamiliar. It was a moment filled with fear, sadness, and confusion, and I did not know where to begin again.
Even in that darkness, a part of me refused to surrender. I did not feel brave. I did not feel strong. I just knew I had to try, even if the steps were small. Over time, those tiny steps began to form a new path.

I learned Braille, even when it felt complicated. I learned how to move with a cane and listen to the world around me in ways I never noticed before. I learned how to use technology with a screen reader, and with that came a sense of independence I thought I lost. Most of all, I learned to be kind to myself. Healing takes time. Trusting yourself again takes time. But every small victory mattered.
My family, my teachers, and the people who believed in me carried me through the days when everything felt too heavy. They showed me that blindness did not erase my dreams. It did not lessen my worth. It simply changed my path, and in that different path, I started to discover a version of myself I never knew existed.



There were days when frustration overwhelmed me. Days when I wished I could go back to who I was before. But each time those thoughts came, I reminded myself that strength is not about never falling. It is about rising again, choosing hope even when the future feels uncertain, and allowing yourself to keep moving forward.


Today I look back with a quiet sense of gratitude for the journey that shaped me. I am still learning every day. I am still growing. I am still choosing courage. Blindness became the turning point that taught me patience, and faith in myself. It brought me to communities, friendships, and opportunities I never thought I would find. Along the way, I learned that strength often appears in the most unexpected moments, sometimes soft and quiet, but always present when we choose to keep going.


I hope my story reminds someone that even in the darkest seasons, there is always a way to rise again. Sometimes it begins with one small step and the belief that light will return.
— Angeline Bernadette 🩷
This post is completely AI-free. All words and photos are my own.
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