Growing up, I never realised how unique my eyes were. I felt the same as everybody else, and so I was the same. As soon as children began noticing the difference in color, I began encountering a spectrum of reactions, the majority of which were not pleasant. I spent most of Elementary school with the nickname “Khatula”, which means “Cat” and was intended to insult me. My eyes dehumanised me to those nasty kids, and indeed I was insulted.

As soon as I hit my teen years, my eyes became a subject of beauty. This unique attribute was no longer seen as a means to humiliate, but to celebrate. People stared with wonder – I mean, they’re a good ice breaker – and my eyes attract a lot of attention still.

I was riding the bus one day when a young woman tapped on my shoulder and said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but one of your contact lenses has fallen out.” The look on her face when I told her that I wasn’t wearing contacts was priceless. I suppose it’s easier to believe that there’s something wrong than to believe your own eyes… literally.  

On other occasion I received a comment on my blog from a young lady who was feeling rather down about herself. She wrote to me about feeling boring and unimportant, and how she broke down in tears when she discovered that I had different colored eyes. “You’re so effortlessly unique”, she wrote. It broke my heart to think that the thing I was so terribly teased for as a child could make someone else feel overwhelmingly powerless for entirely different reasons.

For me, The Heterochromia Project is a place to reexamine things you cannot control, which held a lot of control over you.

“we come from a long line of spiritual women – indigenous Mapuche”

I was born with red glazed dark brown hair, and eyes colored both profoundly black and red-ish brown. Born in the land of the blond and blue-eyed giants that is, which in itself made me pretty unusual to most. I don’t really remember the first time that I realized I was different. Sadly so, others did make sure I would feel different starting at a very young age. But there is more to me than meets the eye. Both my unique features are only visible when the light hits me. And only if you truly choose to see me. Many people that know me usually tend to find my hidden bits of eccentric, after quite a while. I then, to them, become a mystery they are not able to unsee.

In a way I have always felt different. I have always felt like a part of something more. When I was a child my grandmother used to tell me that we come from a long line of spiritual women – indigenous Mapuche women, of south-central Chile. She told me of Machi, a spirit of great wisdom and healing power. And I was told to carry a guardian soul, touched by many other souls before me. My eyes made me believe that they were a mark of something great, something particular. It’s my grandmother’s gift and it defines me forever.

To be honest I have many stories to tell. My childhood was hard and lonely at times. So I created my own world with fairies, unicorns, heroes and dragons. I have always been drawn to the mythological – fantasy and creativity run through me. Surely I could not imagine my live to be any other than extraordinary. Eyes sure are something special aren’t they? I just love to look people in the eye and discover their story, to see the history of people and explore their remarkable pieces. I believe that there’s something truly mysterious and alchemistic inside each and every one of us. Something beyond our imagination and the capabilities of science as we know it today.

I proudly tell people I am the woman in this picture. But boy was I surprised to actually see her looking back at me so fiercely beautiful and unique. It took me a long time to accept me for who I am and I must admit – even to myself – it wasn’t fully the case, until seeing my essence being captured like this. So raw and true. I am different. I am special. I am a solution finder, when no-one seems to be able to see a way through. I am the dreamer. A game changer. My vision goes beyond the tangible and the known. My eyes conceal a mystery, they are my very own confirmation of magic. My gift. And I embrace my uniqueness as a blessing.

“Few are those who see with their own eyes and feel with their own hearts” – Albert Einstein

” I have been bullied all my life because of being fat and often thought that my eyes are the only beautiful thing about me”

I always loved my eyes. I have been bullied all my life because of being fat and often thought that my eyes are the only beautiful thing about me, the only special thing. Nowadays the reactions are mostly positive to my eyes but sometimes people tend to get jealous and ask why someone like me got these eyes. Well, because I am special, I answer then.