Sad Eyes

Yesterday someone told me my eyes are always sad. It’s not the first time. I’ve also been told I have angry eyes.

Neither constantly sad nor angry, I blame the epicanthic folds. I have no eyelids! Well, hardly any to speak of. And not being straight up Asian, this confuses people. The blank space between my eyes and eyebrows and the way the epicanthic folds shape the outside of my almond eyes is unexpected and interpreted emotionally by some. While this is fascinating on one level, it’s also not something I can do anything about, and so somewhat unfortunate. How many people have misinterpreted my inner monologue to be one of melancholy or rage?

Also unfortunate is the fact that normal mascara sticks my eyelashes to my face and smudges. Fortunately a Chinese girl gave me the scoop on Kiss Me Mascara. Created by the Japanese, it creates an acrylic tube around your eyelashes instead of painting them. To get it off you literally pull the tubes off between your fingers. GENIUS! While that is one problem solved, I will always look at women who can do spectacular eye shadow work a little jealously. Sure, I hardly wear makeup, but it’s not having a workable canvas that irks.

That said, I love my eyes! They are a genetic gift that skips through the Italian part of my family (my mother used to tell me they came from Mongolia with Genghis Kahn – and maybe they did). With them I feel a bond to the last person who got them, my great Aunt Fiji (so nicknamed because of the look the eyes gave her). I only knew her as a small child, and I don’t actually remember her, but when I do think about my eyes, I feel like I am reaching back through time to hold hands and walk with her.

The eyes have also helped me out in those times when I wanted to pretend that I “no speak the English.” They take me from multiracial to whateversomeonewantstobelieve.