Growing up I was a very shy child. But in adulthood, I became an independent, fairly confident woman. I believed that whatever life threw my way, I’d handle it—and that included the possibility of vision loss. If I ever received a diagnosis of macular degeneration, I told myself, I would face it head-on.
How I saw myself then—strong, independent, and ready for anything. I had no idea how much was about to change.
I can now look back and acknowledge that even then, I was in denial. I didn’t really believe it would happen to me. But when it did, everything changed.
This is my macular degeneration diagnosis story, and it marked a turning point in my life that I never saw coming.
The moment everything changed—hearing the words that marked the beginning of my journey with vision loss
The Diagnosis
It happened in my early fifties, during a routine eye exam. The doctor explained that I had the dry form of macular degeneration. He said it might not progress quickly, which sounded manageable at the time. I left the office trying to stay calm, thinking I could manage this.
But it quickly became clear that vision loss would affect much more than just my eyesight.
Back then—this was the early 1990s—information was incredibly hard to come by. Most of us didn’t have internet access, and even if we did, there was very little written in plain language. If you wanted to learn about your condition, you had to make phone calls, order printed materials, or try to absorb complex medical explanations during a short doctor’s visit.
There were no Facebook groups. No accessible YouTube videos. And certainly no smartphones with built-in tools for low vision. You were left to figure it out largely on your own—and that was terrifying.
Technology wasn’t on our side either. Accessibility tools were virtually non-existent unless you were connected to a specialized program or advocacy group. There were no magnifier apps, no accessibility settings on everyday devices, and screen readers were rare, expensive, and complicated to use.
I had no roadmap. Just questions, fear, and the slow realization that life was going to look very different moving forward.
Holding On—and Moving Forward
I was diagnosed with the dry form of macular degeneration—the same condition I had watched my mother go through years earlier. Her reaction had been one of complete withdrawal. She gave up on the things she loved, and her world seemed to shrink overnight.
Back then, I made a quiet promise to myself: If this ever happened to me, I wouldn’t let it break me. I would adapt, not give in.
But when my own diagnosis came, that resolve didn’t show up right away.
There were plenty of emotional ups and downs in those early years. At first, I didn’t want to admit how deeply the diagnosis had shaken me. I went through months of denial, trying to carry on as if nothing had changed—while knowing deep down that everything had.
Eventually, I had to take charge of my situation. I reminded myself of the promise I had made years before. I didn’t want to follow the same path I had seen my mother take. I wanted to create a different story.
That moment of reflection became my turning point—when I stopped resisting and started reclaiming my life.
That moment of reflection became my turning point.
From there, I slowly began to find my footing. I started looking for tools that could help. I began learning new ways to do everyday things. And most of all, I reminded myself—again and again—that vision loss didn’t mean life loss. I could still live with purpose. I could still thrive.
Why I’m Sharing This Now
If you’ve recently received a diagnosis like mine—or if someone you love is facing vision loss—I want you to know this:
You are not alone.
The tools may be better now, but the emotions—fear, frustration, uncertainty—are still the same. And so is the strength it takes to keep moving forward.
This is just one chapter in my journey, but it’s one that shaped everything that followed.
It was, without a doubt, the moment everything changed.