When I was a kid, I wanted glasses so badly. I longed to wear cool frames, and when I was finally given a prescription to wear only while reading the board at school, I wore them constantly because I loved them that much. I was about to turn twelve.

Fast-forward eighteen years+ and I’ve mostly enjoyed my life as a four-eyes. Fun, fashionable frames have become as big a part of my identity as anything else: from my thin, clear acetate cat-eye frames to my heavy, black-rimmed wayfarers, I’ve always felt like myself in glasses. But in a few short days, I’ll have no need for my (large) collection of prescription eyeglasses.

I’m looking forward to the freedom that LASIK MD is going to give me. It’s been almost two decades since I’ve been able to wake up and see clearly. I’ve never driven without a corrective lens. I’ve had to swim with such care to avoid knocking out a contact lens that I rarely dunk my head. I’ve scratched my corneas, struggled with such allergies I couldn’t put contact lenses in to save my life and spent hundreds of dollars on prescription sunglasses to make summer easier. I’ve spent tens of thousands on eyeglasses and contact lenses over the past eighteen years.

But I have a confession: I’m a little scared to say goodbye to my glasses.

(I’m also a little nervous about the procedure because, um, EYEBALLS.)

From a vanity perspective, I actually like how I look in glasses – maybe even more than I like how I look without. I enjoy wearing fun frames. I love that I can put on glasses and a little lipgloss or a great scarf and call it a day – glasses are like makeup you don’t need to scrub off – they’re the perfect accessory. And I’m going to miss them.

Sure, I can get non-prescription lenses in cool frames that won’t set me back a few hundred (thanks, poor eyesight requiring me to have my lenses thinned!), but then am I THAT person? I guess eighteen years of frame-wielding means I’m entitled to wearing the fakes ones now, right?

Aside from the vanity (and the lost opportunity to wear my many fun pairs of glasses), there’s a bit of anxiety that comes from knowing you’re making a life-changing decision – even if it’s all positive. The freedom I’ll soon enjoy is something I haven’t enjoyed since I was a child – when I definitely didn’t appreciate it. I can’t wait to dunk my head, not double-check my bag for contact solution or my contacts case, or need to carry prescription sunglasses in my bag when I want to wear my frames out during the day – not to mention the constant switching between sunnies and non-sunnies!

I have only a couple of days of wearing my glasses left. A couple of days of wiping away smudges every few hours and getting my hair caught in the hinges. A couple of days of sliding the acetate back up my nose because, no matter how many times they’re adjusted, no frames ever seemed to fit quite right. A couple of days of this chapter.

And I’ve already picked my future fake glasses.