I have two different colored eyes. The best way I’ve ever heard it explained to me is that both my eyes are blue, but one eye has a splash of brown, almost like a freckle. It was something I was born with. Over my 22 years on this planet, it’s often come up as a topic of conversation when I meet someone new, or even when someone I’ve known for a while notices for the first time. Here’s a timeline of those conversations:
The realizations:
“Wait, are your eyes two different colors?!”
This is usually preceded by staring at my face or giving me a quizzical look.
“That’s so cool! I’ve never noticed!”
Public Service Announcement: Eye contact is important, please try it.
“One’s blue and the other’s brown!”
I had no idea. You are the first person ever in 22 years to tell me what color my eyes are. Thank you.
“I’ve never met anyone with two different colored eyes before!”
Statistically, you probably have. Although the type of heterochromia iridium that I have (sectoral heterochromia) only occurs in about 1% of the population, heterochromia takes several different forms. My heterochromia is very pronounced-- about half of my left eye is brown, so it’s very noticeable.
“Oh, like a Siberian Husky!”
Yes, heterochromia is much more common in animals than in humans-- mostly in long-haired white cats and Siberian Huskies. This also may explain why I really want to adopt a Husky when I get older. #twinning
“Oh, like David Bowie!”
Yes! Although his heterochromia was debatable, it may have been linked to anisocoria, or a permanently dilated pupil.
The questions:
“Were you born that way?”
I mean I don’t remember the entire experience, but yeah, it’s been like this as long as I can remember.
“What do you put on your driver’s license when they ask you?”
My driver’s license says that my eyes are just blue because the DMV is boring.
“Does one eye see better than the other?”
I mean, my eyes are equally terrible, but I attribute that mostly to video games and family history of near-sightedness.
“What color eyes do your parents have?”
My parents both have light eyes, because blue eyes are a recessive gene and that’s how science works.
“Are you wearing colored contacts?”
I wear contacts because if I don’t, I can’t see more than six inches from my face.
“Do you ever wish your eyes were the same color?”
Yes and no. Yes because in pictures, one eye looks bigger than the other (light eyes, like blue or green, tend to look bigger than darker colored eyes) and it makes my face look disproportionate. No, because my eyes are awesome.
“Would you ever get surgery to fix it?”
I didn’t even know there was a surgery to do anything about my eyes, but I don’t like surgeries and I don’t need to fix anything. Again, my eyes are awesome.
The explanations:
“You probably have (insert medical diagnosis).”
You probably don’t have a medical degree, but thanks for the input.
“You must have a melanin issue.”
My pale skin, abundant freckles and inability to tan didn’t tell you that, but my different colored eyes did? Okay, Dr. House.
“Someone in your family must also have two different eyes.”
Heterochromia is generally considered to be a genetic mutation, so I’m sure someone down the line has had two different colored eyes. But for all we know, I’m the mutation.
“Maybe you’re in the X-Men.”
That’d be awesome, but my only superpowers are binge-watching Netflix and telling bad jokes, so I don’t think they’d want me.
“You know, two different colored eyes means you had a twin in the womb and then you devoured it.”
Yes, somebody actually said this to me.
There you have it. Now that we’ve all had this discussion, let’s find something else to talk about besides my eyes.