Search Results: how to change eye color

First of all, let me make it clear that my intention is NOT to be racist or disrespectful to any group for any reason. I ask this question purely out of curiosity to how I am perceived.

I identify as multiracial. I’m Filipino (1/4), Portuguese (1/8), Puerto Rican (1/4), French (1/8), and Italian (1/4). That makes me 25% Latina, 25% Asian/Pacific Islander (depending on your views of the Philippines. Personally, I’d love to be both), and 50% Caucasian.

No one has addressed me as either a white woman nor a woman of color. In fact, most people have difficulties guessing my ethnicities. I have olive skin, thick brown hair, and eyes that change color (but are typically hazel).

So,

Me and my mother mainly have never got along.
She always wanted me to be perfect.
If I wasn't she would put me down a lot.
She would make a lot of my decisions for me when I was younger.
If I went against them I would be caned and locked in my room for days, sometimes worse.
I would do things to please her. Like play the violin until my fingers bleed and were numb. Even my "favorite" color and the we I always had to wear my hair was her decision.
Gelled and slicked back in a very tight bun.
It would pull back my eyes.
I remember I wanted to have it braided like the other girls.
She didn't like how curly it was so she would press it and pull it back in a bun.
So you couldn't really see what my curl pattern was.
I started losing my hair because I got stressed a lot about my parents fights and pulled it out.
I hated my hair, because it felt like something else that was mine but not really mine.
I was eight at the time.
Kids at school started noticing I was balding.
I was already the "teacher's pet" that only things worse.
When I told my mom.
She said it was because I wasn't very likable and I needed to change the way I acted and they would too.
I started failing on purpose and disrespecting my teachers so I could be cool.
After a while they started to accept me.
But the thing is.
I felt they was really accepting me more like someone else.
Someone who I could never me be.
I got expelled and my mother hired a teacher and I was basically homeschooled.
About like three years later my parents finally divorced.
I was left in the middle in the middle of things. my mother got admitted into a mental health hostpital.
My father disappeared...

I had to live with my grandmother.
That's where my life changed she homeschooled me still.
I was really happy with her.
Years later she got sick and couldn't take care of me anymore so I got emancipated and lived with a good friend. I had finished school and was off to college.
I still do not speak to my parents.