I absolutely identify as a person with a non-apparent disability, and it is a crucial part of my identity. The living embodiment of “things aren’t always as they seem,” I know full well surface optics can be deceiving. Because my disability is not always readily apparent, my behavior is often misinterpreted, assumptions are made in an instant, and, for my part, compensation can be an involuntary reflex. It’s sometimes like having a secret I’m not trying to keep, and yet get stuck keeping it anyway. This may be due to a false sense of control—as if I can alter the misconceptions people may have regarding blindness, resist being categorized, be seen for who I am, and not who they assume me to be—or it also may be because I’m not always sure when or how to explain my situation. For years I’ve grappled with how to articulate just what it is I do or do not see, while also dealing with how it is I’m being seen by others. I call it the allusive state of being In-Between. The theme of “betweenness,” however, resonates with me in ways that go beyond being somewhere between sighted and blind. It is who I am. So I’ve had to learn to find balance in those blurred lines, in the spaces between the labels, to live in the questions, and trust that my intrinsic self will shine through.