The Dollar Tree Frames That Explain My Life, A Blog Article Written By Jenn D Real Lessons Learned The Hard Way Article August 4th 2026

The Dollar Tree Frames That Explain My Life

There was a time when my prescription glasses broke.

Not the lenses.

The frames.

If you've ever worn glasses, you know the sinking feeling. You don't simply misplace an accessory. You lose the ability to see the world the way you're supposed to. I can't work without my glasses. They aren't optional.

The problem was simple.

I couldn't afford a new pair.

The cheapest prescription glasses were well over a hundred dollars.

Dollar Tree sold reading glasses for $1.25.

So that's where I went.

I bought a pair that looked as close to the shape of my prescription lenses as I could find. I popped the reader lenses out. I removed my prescription lenses from their broken frames and transplanted them into their new home.

Were they perfect?

Absolutely not.

Did they fit exactly?

Not even close.

Did they eventually break?

Of course they did.

But they got me through until I could afford proper frames.

That story usually makes people laugh.

It makes me laugh too.

I still have a bag somewhere filled with empty Dollar Tree reader frames. Their lenses are long gone, sacrificed in the name of eyesight. It probably looks like I ran an underground eyeglass transplant clinic.

The funny thing is, I never thought of it as being clever.

I thought of it as Tuesday.

---

People often compliment me on my creativity.

They point at a painting.

A poem.

A photograph.

What they don't realize is that creativity starts long before I sit down to make art.

It starts with broken glasses.

I've had very little at different points in my life.

But I always did something with it.

If I had one dollar, I didn't decide dinner wasn't happening.

I went to WinCo's bulk bins.

A little rice.

Some lentils.

Maybe beans.

A handful of spices.

Ignore the inevitable witch jokes while stirring the pot.

Congratulations.

Dinner.

I've never been particularly interested in pretending my life was polished.

It wasn't.

It isn't.

I fall asleep wearing my glasses.

I'm prone to sleepwalking.

My poor frames have survived things no optometrist ever intended.

I don't replace my glasses because a new style came out.

I replace them after I've finally managed to murder the previous pair.

That's just reality.

Reality is often funnier than fiction.

---

Years ago, a therapist challenged me to take one selfie every single day.

It sounded simple.

Then my glasses broke.

The Dollar Tree frames worked for seeing.

They did not work for photography.

So for a while, I simply took the selfies without glasses.

Because the therapist wasn't going to win.

The assignment wasn't to look perfect.

The assignment was to show up.

Looking back through those pictures, I don't see missing glasses.

I see consistency.

Some days I looked tired.

Some days confident.

Some days artistic.

Some days I probably looked like someone who had just lost a wrestling match with a pillow.

Every day, I showed up anyway.

---

I've realized over the years that this is how I solve almost everything.

I don't spend much time wishing I had different materials.

I start with the ones in front of me.

Broken frames become temporary glasses.

A dollar becomes dinner.

An accidental photo filter becomes a new artistic style.

A problem becomes a question.

What can this become?

People sometimes tell me I'm resourceful.

I don't know.

Maybe.

It doesn't feel resourceful from the inside.

It feels practical.

If something can be fixed, I try to fix it.

If it can't be fixed permanently, maybe it can be fixed long enough.

Long enough matters.

Long enough gets you through Tuesday.

Sometimes Tuesday turns into Wednesday.

Eventually, you save enough for new glasses.

---

I think we put too much pressure on ourselves to appear like we've always had the answer.

We crop out the temporary fixes.

We hide the duct tape.

We pretend the path was smooth because we're embarrassed by the potholes.

I'm not.

Those Dollar Tree frames are just as much a part of my story as the expensive snow leopard glasses I wear now.

They remind me that I didn't stop because the solution wasn't ideal.

I kept going until I found a better one.

There's a difference.

One day those glasses became a funny story.

At the time, they were simply what I had.

Maybe that's the lesson.

Not every solution has to last forever.

Some only need to last until you can build the next one.

And honestly...

That's been my life.

Not perfect.

Not polished.

Just someone looking at whatever happened to be in front of her and asking one simple question:

"What can I do with this?"