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Common Blind Questions Answered: My Journey
What It’s Really Like to Be Blind: Honest Answers from Someone Living It
Have you ever paused to truly wonder what life is like without sight? As someone that’s legally blind with five degrees of residual vision in my right eye, I’ve heard these questions countless times. I only became legally blind about a year ago, so I straddle both worlds: the sighted one I knew for most of my life and the blind one I’m navigating now.
In this post, I’ll share straightforward, personal answers to the most common curiosities about blindness, drawing from my experiences and conversations with friends in the community. My goal? To dispel myths, highlight realities, and show that blindness is a spectrum of adaptation, not limitation.
Do Blind People Blink?
Yes, we do. Blind people have eyes (real or prosthetic), and blinking is a natural reflex to keep them lubricated and free of debris. Sight has nothing to do with it; it’s basic eye physiology.
Do Blind People Dream?
Dreams are highly individual and depend on when (and if) someone lost their vision. People blind from birth often don’t have visual dreams at all. Research shows that congenital blindness means the brain doesn’t develop the same visual processing pathways, so visual imagery in dreams is rare or absent.
For those like me that had full vision for decades and only recently became legally blind, dreams remain crystal-clear, often in perfect 20/20 detail. Many of my blind friends who’ve been without sight longer report no visual elements in their dreams anymore; visual memory fades over time, and dreams shift to rely on other senses. It’s fascinating how the brain adapts.
Can a Blind Person See Anything?
Blindness isn’t all or nothing, it’s a wide spectrum. Legally blind covers a range from severe low vision to total blindness. The common claim is that only about 10% of legally blind people have no light perception at all (complete darkness, or rather, no visual input whatsoever). In my experience and from what I’ve heard, the number of people in total, absolute blindness (no light sense) is even lower, perhaps closer to 5% or less in many cases. Most people labeled “blind” retain some light perception: they can tell light from dark, notice bright sources, or even see vague shapes or contrasts. Those blind since birth often still sense light in subtle ways. The idea of “seeing nothing but black” is a myth; many experience no visual field at all, complete absence rather than darkness.
How Do Blind People Read?
Accessibility tech has revolutionized reading for us. Screen readers turn text into speech or braille output:
iPhones dominate in the blind community thanks to VoiceOver. It’s intuitive, powerful, and widely loved for seamless navigation.
Macs use VoiceOver, too.
Windows machines in the workplace often run JAWS (a paid screen reader) or the free, NVDA.
For tactile reading, braille displays are invaluable. They range from compact 20-cell models (like the NLS eReader for basic use) to advanced 40-cell ones (like the HIMS Braille eMotion). I rely on mine daily to read texts, emails, books, and articles. It’s direct, private, and fast. Braille isn’t dying; it’s evolving with refreshable displays that pair with phones and computers.
How Do Blind People Navigate the World?
Getting around is a mix of mental mapping, sensory awareness, and technology. I memorize routes: how many steps to the end of my street, which direction to turn at corners. Sounds are huge, traffic flow, echoes off buildings, audible pedestrian signals at crosswalks. I absorb a ton of environmental info without visual clutter.
Apps like Apple Maps with VoiceOver are game-changers: spoken directions, precise distance announcements, and haptic vibrations guide me turn-by-turn. Guide dogs, white canes, and orientation & mobility training help too. It’s about building reliable systems—once a route is learned, it’s second nature.
Do Blind People Have Better Senses?
No, this is a persistent myth. Our hearing, smell, or touch aren’t superhuman. We don’t magically gain enhanced senses. What changes is attention: without visual input dominating, we tune in more deeply to audio cues, vibrations, scents, and textures. My hearing is not great, but I pick up on subtle footsteps or air shifts when someone approaches because I’m not distracted by sights. It’s focus and practice, not biology.
How Do Blind People Cook or Shop?
Daily tasks like cooking become routine with adaptation and tools. Mornings, I often make my wife scrambled eggs: crack carefully (shells are the enemy), stir, melt butter, and gauge doneness by sound (sizzle changes), spatula feel, and timing from our specific stove setup. I’ve cooked eggs forever, so muscle memory kicks in. Instant Pots are lifesavers. Set timers and walk away. Helpful gadgets include talking thermometers, liquid level indicators (beeps when coffee reaches the rim), and cut-proof gloves for safe chopping.
Shopping? Online ordering handles most needs conveniently. In-store, Meta smart glasses read labels aloud and describe surroundings (aisles, products, signs)—tech like this boosts independence dramatically. It’s empowering.
Do Blind People Work?
Yes, and many excel in diverse fields: teaching, law, programming, entrepreneurship, counseling, and beyond. Assistive tech levels the playing field when workplaces embrace it.
That said, employment challenges are real and frustrating. Statistics vary by source and definition, but recent U.S. data (from places like the American Foundation for the Blind and National Research & Training Center) show employment-population ratios around 40-50% for working-age people with visual impairments, far below the 75-80% for those without disabilities. The true “unemployment rate” (among those in the labor force actively seeking work) is often around 8-10%, double the general population’s. However, a large portion (sometimes over 40%) aren’t even in the labor force. Older or outdated claims of “70% unemployed” often misapply stats by including everyone not working, not just the job-seeking unemployed.
Underemployment is huge as well, many capable blind people end up in part-time or lower-level roles. Why? Assistive tech (screen readers, braille displays, specialized software) can cost thousands upfront. Small businesses can’t afford the expense; larger ones hesitate over accommodations.
Vocational rehabilitation programs exist in every state, but outcomes vary. Some lead to fulfilling careers, others to low-pay box assembly jobs.
Blind people aren’t lacking intelligence or drive. In my biased view, the blind people I know are among the sharpest, most resilient, and wisest people out there. We’ve adapted to a world not built for us.
Stigma lingers: entering a coffee shop or store, I sense the stares, the awkward silences. But that’s okay, awareness changes minds. Technology advances daily: AI, better apps, inclusive design. All we ask is opportunity, a fair shot to contribute.
If this post sparked curiosity or shifted your perspective, that’s the win. Blindness reshapes life, but it doesn’t define it. We’re capable, creative, and ready when given the chance. Got more questions? I’m here to talk.
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Stuck
As I pen this entry, I hope it will mark the end of a series of “blind” updates for some time. Have you ever found yourself in an inescapable predicament? My dialogue will carefully omit any direct reference to my employer, a vast global entity. Before the devastating prognosis of my impending blindness, and the ensuing revocation of my driving privileges, I found fulfillment in my profession and thrived on a perfect work routine.
My earlier schedule had me traveling to a neighboring town for work, beginning at 5:00 AM and ending at 1:30 PM from Monday to Friday. My return home was typically around 2:00 PM, allowing me the luxury of a brief rest before tending to household duties and at times, preparing dinner for my wife, Deana. This routine suited us well, allowing us to enjoy our evenings together, and even catch a movie after her workday had concluded.
Following the dire revelation about my vision, I was compelled to request a transfer to a branch within walking proximity to my home. This transition was protracted, lasting a month, with three weeks in which I received no compensation. My role in the corporation pertained to merchandising—a field I had not sought academic training for nor anticipated finding enjoyable. However, my penchant for order, structure, and meticulous tasks seemed to align well with the demands of the role.
Despite my capability and experience to perform my job without sight, the company reassigned me to an in-store position, with working hours slated from 1:30 PM to 10:00 PM on arbitrary days. My wife’s schedule has her leaving for work at 8:00 AM, during which I stay with our dogs until she returns at lunch to drive me to work. Consequently, we have been deprived of the cherished evenings we once shared. My new role demands squinting at minute details, which results in intense eye strain and headaches by day’s end.
While my employer has fulfilled the legal obligations, their support has not extended beyond that. My objections to this decision are manifold. I am naturally inclined towards early mornings, valuing the ability to complete my workday ahead of time and spend evenings with my loved ones.
Pursuing alternative employment remains a viable option, yet I am faced with the dilemma that full disclosure of my visual impairment may render me unemployable. While part-time work is attainable, it would compromise my access to quality health insurance. The coverage I currently hold is excellent, but parting ways with my job or reducing hours would precipitate a twofold increase in insurance costs. My wife’s insurance plan does not cover dependents, which further immobilizes me in my current role.
My aspirations for financial support through my blog and magazine, alongside print sales, have yet to yield significant results, though I express my deepest gratitude to everyone who has engaged with my work.
Under South Carolina’s regulations, disability benefits are inaccessible to me until my vision constricts to 20 degrees or less; currently, it stands at approximately 40 degrees. The Commission for the Blind is a resource, but its primary focus is to ensure employment for the visually impaired. Despite these challenges, I am determined to persevere in the hope of a breakthrough, but the everyday struggle is real, with a mortgage and other bills aligning with the fiscal responsibilities that many of us face.
It is not my intent to lament my circumstances; however, I cannot ignore the reality of the corner I seem to be trapped in. I am contending with Septo Optic Dysplasia and Optic Atrophy, amongst a long list of other challenges, and yet I take solace in the fact that I’m still able to provide for my family—this is undeniably a positive. The unwavering support from my wife, Deana, has been nothing short of heroic, and her strength is a blessing for which I am eternally grateful.
Should anyone have practical suggestions for additional sources of income, I would be keen to hear them. We seek your ideas and assistance. While I seldom mention it, there is a tip jar situated on the right side of the blog—for those inclined to support my endeavors with the equivalent of a coffee, it would be greatly appreciated. In my forthcoming post, which you can expect on Monday, I will discuss my preferred and reasonably priced folding medium format camera.
While I have pursued photography as a business venture for several years, it has not been financially lucrative for me. The ordeal nearly overwhelmed me at times. Nevertheless, it is an endeavor that brings tranquility to my spirit. Its absence would leave a void within me — for it is intricately tied to my identity.
I am the individual who approaches others with enthusiasm about cameras, only to reveal that I am progressing towards blindness. This revelation often elicits surprise and confusion; however, I find a certain satisfaction in such reactions. People are strange, but so am I.
It is my intention to share my narrative with you, one that intertwines simplicity with complexity. I invite you to subscribe to this blog for further insights and to explore more of my photographic journey.





