"A… E… I think that's a... Z?" I feign blindness to the bemused physician's assistant as she exchanges a jokingly chastising head shake with my mother, who has grown accustomed to my lunacy.

"Congratulations," the carrier of my ill-fated tells me as she absentmindedly scribbles away at her clipboard. "You have twenty-twenty vision."

My annual eye exam during my routine pediatrician visit each year has remained the bane of my existence for as long as I can remember. While some children lived with a constant, burning desire for menial possessions such as action figures and Barbie dream houses, there was only one thing on my Christmas (or Eid) list from year to year: glasses. Unfortunately, as fate would have it, my impeccable genes and perfect eyesight have prevented me from achieving this dream and adding the perfect degree of quirky to my underdeveloped aesthetic.

Yet, despite knowing that no one in my family has needed glasses before the age of fifty, I still held some absurd hope that I would be the one exception and that, if I worked toward it (meaning if I binge-watched Netflix at a dangerous proximity to the TV screen and coerced my visually-impaired friends into letting me don their spectacles for extended periods of time) the stars would somehow align for me. Due to my idealistic, unwavering hope in the seemingly impossible, my mother concluded that I did not need to actually hinder my vision because I was already accustomed to seeing the world through glasses -- rose-colored glasses, that is.

Rose colored glasses, as defined by Wiktionary, are "an optimistic perception of something; a positive opinion; seeing something in a positive way, often thinking of it as better than it actually is." In other words, rose-colored glasses are the spectacles that, once adjusted on the bridge of your nose, allow you to separate the dreary word of "impossible" into the cliche, but true, "I'm Possible!"

My mother has always scoffed at my almost childlike view that even the most impossible problems have possible solutions, claiming that my idealism will blind me more than any plasma screen or faulty prescription could.

Unfortunately, with the political and social climate of the world today, it becomes increasingly difficult to see the world in shades of pink as I am forced to face the reality that lies ahead of me. From seeing my own mosque vandalized after the tragic Pulse shooting in my hometown of Orlando to watching humanity unravel almost daily by simply turning on the television, the world seems to be actively trying to weed out the few optimists that still reside within it. However, despite the naysayers' claims that my idealistic nature prevents me from seeing the world as it is, I would argue that my rose-colored glasses are the best accessory to any outfit. Instead of accepting the bitter truths of inequality and injustice undeniably present within the world, I am able to see the hope in even the dreariest of situations.

However, my idealism not only allows me to see the hope in every circumstance but also spurs me to take action in order to bring my dreams to fruition. As a ridiculously stubborn person, I am simply unable to rest until I can bring my idealistic views of the world into existence: a quality of mine that genuinely fits the classic interview question about my "greatest strength" disguised in the form of the unassuming "greatest weakness." Due to this reluctance to accept reality, I cannot turn a blind eye to injustice, no matter how insignificant a threat it poses to my own daily life, because I am simply unable to accept a world with problems capable of remedy (which I consider to be most).

I do see the world through rose-colored glasses. It is these glasses that exempt me from sitting idly by and watching the world tear itself apart in front of me. It is these glasses that force me to, for lack of a more original phrase, be the change I wish to see in the world. It is these glasses that have given me the gift of believing in the unbelievable. And I'm not looking to get a new pair.