A journey through sight loss- by Nina Chesworth from ‘Blind but Sound’

When I was asked to write this blog post from the perspective of a parent, I found it difficult to know exactly what to share because knowing what the experience of those around you can be difficult to read at times.  I hope that reflecting on my journey—as a visually impaired child, teenager, and young adult, and ultimately becoming a blind woman and mother, will help you in some way.

It has been a long, emotional and winding journey, looking back on who I am today, I feel incredibly grateful for the people in my life who have supported me in becoming the woman I am.

At the age of two, I contracted the flu virus, which attacked my eyes and left me with various vision problems. I had limited sight, pressure issues, and foggy vision caused by corneal and cataract complications. As a result, I underwent numerous surgeries throughout childhood and adulthood to correct or improve my vision. But the challenges didn’t end there.

In adulthood, after a successful surgery that allowed me to read a newspaper for the first time without a magnifier, I experienced a workplace accident that caused me to lose the right eye. Left with fluctuating sight in my left eye, I underwent more surgeries to try and preserve what remained—but my vision stayed limited. Later, another accident at home resulted in the loss of the retina in my left eye, leading to total sight loss at age 37—with my seven-year-old son by my side.

I also developed Charles Bonnet Syndrome a condition that causes silent visual hallucinations. This is triggered in 1 in 5 people with sight loss, caused by any form of sight deterioration.  It can also affect anyone of any age. This has been another layer to my journey which have shared about on my blog, for more information. Why am I sharing all of this? I want to offer a glimpse into the journey many people with sight loss go through. In my work within the sight loss sector, and as part of this community, I’ve heard countless stories with a similar theme—stories of resilience, courage, and unwavering support.

Throughout my journey, one thing has remained constant: the love and support of my family. As a young child, they held my hand, wiped away my tears, and gave me the strength and honest words I needed during tough times. I remember the hospital visits—my mum holding my hand, my uncle making sure I had everything I needed, my aunt reassuring me, and my sisters making me laugh. That same support has carried into adulthood and shaped the way my son and I connect today.

During each surgery and accident, my family rallied around me, which was comforting—but it also brought its own challenges. There were moments when I felt powerless, even suffocated. As both a child and an adult, how do you express that the love and support you’re receiving feels overwhelming? I’ve learned that honest and open communication is the best approach, even when it’s uncomfortable or risks hurting someone’s feelings. Those conversations lead to more workable and understanding relationships. I know my family acts out of love and a desire to see me thrive, but if they wrapped me in bubble wrap (as they often joke), I’d never find my own strength and stability.

This perspective deeply influences the way I parent. As a blind mother, there are many things I’ve had to adapt to stay fully involved. But if I let fear stop me from trying to do things perfectly, my son wouldn’t be the compassionate, confident, and kind young boy he is today. I’ve learned to have faith in my intentions and trust that the way I support him is what works for us. Communication is key—not just as a blind parent, but as a blind woman navigating the world. A mentor once told me, “You must be honest, even if it’s uncomfortable. You can’t control how your honesty will affect someone else—but if you’re not honest, can you truly feel comfortable?” Those words stuck with me, and I often come back to them.

What I want to share most is this: my journey has been turbulent. I’ve faced many challenges while adapting to complete sight loss after a lifetime of fighting, challenging perceptions, and even denying my disability. But it’s also been filled with incredible highs—achieving a degree in Design and Art Direction, starting successful businesses, building a fulfilling career, learning new skills, and pushing myself with things like driving a race car around the three sister’s racetrack or indoor climbing—all as a blind woman.

Becoming a mother was a turning point, and I continue to grow in this role every day. The love and support of my family are what give me the confidence and resilience to keep going. They have always tried to keep things light too with an undercurrent of humour. My late uncle was my rock, and he always kept a smile on my face. As I began to embrace the disabled community and my new world, I began to be asked to share my story. He often joked he would have to be my manager if it continued. I believe he along with the rest of my family are proud of my outlook and determination and they are happy to be on the journey with me.

If I could offer one piece of advice, it would be this: have faith and be open to change and possibility. Have honest conversations. Your blind or partially sighted family member may surprise you—if you give them the chance. And above all, remember you are not alone.

If you’d like to follow my journey, I share the ups and downs on my blog at, www.blindbutsound.co.uk