A Journey Beyond Blindness

I was born blind because of Leber congenital amaurosis, a condition that caused me to grow up experiencing the world differently from most people. Being blind has never meant that I did not have goals, though. For years, people questioned what I could do independently and sometimes assumed that my disability should limit where I could travel or how I could live. One of the biggest moments that challenged those assumptions began on August 21, 2024, when I traveled from the United States to the Philippines by myself. I was not making a short trip. I was traveling across the world to finally meet Emma, the woman I had known and talked with for six years.

My mother took me to Jacksonville International Airport in Florida. I was so excited that I actually wanted to be dropped off the night before my flight. I spent the night sitting on a bench, using my phone and talking with Emma. I was not sitting there thinking about everything that could go wrong. I was thinking about where I was going and about finally turning something that had existed through phone calls and messages into real life. The next morning, airport staff assisted me through the airport while I traveled with my white cane. I boarded my first flight from Jacksonville to Atlanta and arrived at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, where I had a layover of several hours.

From Atlanta, I boarded the long flight to Seoul, South Korea. It was the longest part of the journey, but I was still excited. When I arrived at Incheon International Airport, I became determined to get a South Korean passport stamp. I asked for assistance getting through immigration so that I could officially enter the country during my layover. After getting the stamp I wanted, I returned to the airport and ate at Lotteria, a Korean fast-food restaurant. That might seem like a small detail, but to me it represented something bigger. I was thousands of miles from home, blind and traveling independently, and I was experiencing a country I had never visited before.

Later, I boarded my flight from Seoul to Manila. When I arrived in the Philippines around midnight, the trip suddenly became much more difficult. Immigration officials questioned me closely about why I had come to the country and about my relationship with Emma. Because I was blind, they seemed concerned that someone might take advantage of me. They asked questions about our relationship and wanted to examine information on my phone. At the time, I cooperated because I wanted to enter the country and continue my journey. I had known Emma for six years, and I knew why I had traveled there. Still, I spent hours at the airport waiting while my situation was reviewed.

By about five in the morning, I was finally able to continue. I took another flight from Manila to Davao City. After arriving in Davao, I received assistance getting into a taxi and went to Hotel Sogo, where I finally slept. A few hours later, Emma arrived. After six years of phone calls and messages, we were finally standing in the same place. We were both overwhelmed and cried when we met. That moment made every flight, layover, immigration question, and hour of waiting worth it.

What began as a trip became a completely different life. I decided to remain in the Philippines. About a month later, I traveled to Cebu City to work on documents needed for marriage. On October 8, 2024, Emma and I were married in Kapalong. I later went through the immigration process to establish residency in the Philippines. Our life continued to grow, and on June 24, 2026, our daughter, Madeline, was born.

The most important part of this journey is not simply that I traveled to another country. It is what the journey proved to me. People had told me that I would never make it to the Philippines. Some said Emma was only a “phone girlfriend” or that she was using me. Others saw my blindness and assumed that traveling independently across several countries was beyond what I could safely do. Their predictions did not become my reality.

Being blind does create challenges, and I do use assistance when I need it. Independence does not mean refusing help. To me, independence means making my own decisions, pursuing my own goals, and finding a way forward when something is difficult. On August 21, 2024, I left the United States carrying a white cane, a phone, a passport, and a belief that the life I wanted was possible. That journey eventually led to a marriage, a family, and a new home. It taught me that disability can change how I accomplish something without deciding whether I am allowed to accomplish it.

AI Assistance Disclosure

I used ChatGPT Voice by OpenAI as an accessibility tool to narrate my personal experiences and to receive assistance organizing and editing this personal narrative. The events, experiences, opinions, and reflections described in the narrative are my own.

Works Cited

OpenAI. ChatGPT, voice conversation, 12 Sept. 2026. Used as an accessibility aid for narration, organization, and editing.