There has never been a truer, more pure love/hate relationship than the one contact lens wearers have with their contacts. Having gotten mine in middle school out of both necessity (for gym class and dance practice) and aesthetics (I looked like a little monster), I am far too familiar with the struggles and triumphs those little savages can bring.

When I first got them, there was definitely a learning curve—my eyes watered and my nose got irritated every time I put them in, and having to touch my eyes and make sure everything was clean all the time was very different. Once I got the hang of it, I wanted to wear them all the time: unlike the majority of the population that looks good while wearing glasses, I did not and still don’t fall into this category. Because my face just naturally rejects glasses, I loved the newfound confidence my contacts gave me. In addition, I wouldn’t have to wear 3D glasses on top of my own, or be unable to use regular sunglasses—I was a middle schooler on top of the world. When you take care of them and use as directed, they really can be excellent in some situaitons.

But as the years went on, the relationship soured a bit. While I tried to avoid overuse whenever possible, days inevitably came (especially in college) where I wouldn’t get the chance to run and take them out before my eyes actively started hating me. Sometimes, I wouldn’t even have them in for too long and they would start annoying me. The dryness, irritation, and the constant sensation of being able to feel them on your eyeballs are all just horrible. Whenever any miniscule dirt particles or tears affect the lenses, they somehow feel like sandpaper. If one of them starts to irritate me in class or while I’m out, that’s literally all I can think about—and just forget it if you happen to apply them inside out, God forbid. Although I love the freedom they give me, I fantasize daily about getting corrective eye surgery simply so that I don’t have to worry about my vision ever again.

But nothing beats the feeling of taking them out after a long day’s wear—this might be the most satisfying emotion known to man, and anyone who says otherwise is lying.

So, Dear Contacts: even though I curse you on a daily basis, I also kinda love you.

Xoxo.