- I had a brain tumor as a kid that left me legally blind.
- I've mostly dated other visually impaired people, but I just joined dating apps.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Richard Wheatley. It has been edited for length and clarity.
I have very few memories from before I went blind, which happened after I got a brain tumor at 5.
One of my final "sighted" memories was watching "Star Wars: The Phantom Menace." I can remember every scene. That film has had some bad reviews over the years, but "it made me go blind" might be its worst yet.
My parents took the news about my tumor hard. Initially, they were told the tumor was probably inoperable and I'd be dead by age 10.
My neurosurgeon managed to remove 90 percent of the tumor. I survived, but my optic nerves did not. I'm now 28.
Despite earlier challenges, I live a pretty full and fulfilling life
I'm legally blind and use a cane. I have some sight in my left eye but none in my right. I can see large objects, including people, but I can't see the details to distinguish them.
I attended a boarding school for visually impaired students. I called it Blind Hogwarts. As I have some very limited vision, I'd sometimes be enlisted to guide those with zero vision on school trips. It was literally the blind leading the blind.
I use speech software and Braille, but I'm a very slow Braille reader. The speech software helps me in my job as a freelance news writer.
My dating life has always been interesting
Blind Hogwarts was small so we mingled between years more than other schools, and we hopped from relationship to relationship quickly. I had one long relationship and a couple of shorter ones, all with visually impaired girls.
For the most part, I've dated visually impaired women, and I've only recently dated fully sighted women. On those dates — and there haven't been too many of them — I sometimes wonder if I'm reading the signs correctly. So much of dating comes down to body language, which is hard for me to read. I struggle to know if someone's indicating that I should keep going or back off. It knocks my confidence a bit.
I recently started using dating apps. I really rely on what people write in their profiles; I can't rely on photos to tell if someone's interesting. It's an imprecise science, and I'm still figuring it out.
Usually, when I meet someone on the apps, the first thing I tell them is I'm blind. I often find myself apologizing, especially if I do something weird — like trying to pry open clearly locked toilet doors.
I try to find the humor in it all
I remain single at this stage, but my hobbies keep me busy and fulfilled. I've got my community radio show, and I run a topical quiz every Friday evening. I also have my stand-up comedy show called "You Don't Know You're Beautiful," where I find humor in my life as a visually impaired guy. I recently took it to the Edinburgh Fringe, my fourth time there.
In my show, I joke about the benefits of being blind, like not being able to drive but getting to park for free. Sometimes I ask the audience what I look like: I get Ken, of Barbie and Ken. And Benny and/or Björn from Abba.
Aside from having my own Netflix comedy special and being a BBC radio presenter in the future, I'd like to find love.
I want to get married and be an embarrassing dad; I'd be great at that. Eventually, I'd like to be one of those granddads who gets told to stop spoiling his grandchildren.
I guess we'll see where the world of dating apps takes me.