Who's there?

We grow up with generally accepted ideas of success: living independently; providing for a family; having healthy, happy kids...

There's the more specific idealized material success: being wealthy; top in your profession; high-ranking professional; receiving awards...

I remember, when i was thinking of college, i kinda just wanted to do art.  But it seemed like that wouldn't be accepted and that i needed a science degree.  I remember telling my mom this, either after a few years of college-- maybe after graduating--and she looked at me with a bit of regret, saying that they would have been happy with whatever degree i chose, and would have supported me in whatever path i decided to follow.

It's interesting, these preconceived ideas we get of expectations that we feel stifle our development, and then realize that it's not somebody else's notion, it's us projecting what we THINK they think we should do.  Communication.  So dang critical.

I was terribly shy growing up.  I was always uncomfortable at parties and events, when all these random strangers would come up to me and ask how i was doing and what my dad was up to and how they'd heard i'd been doing this or that.  I always assumed it was because my dad was well known in the community and they knew OF me through him.  It wasn't until i was in college, and a former classmate and friend whom i hadn't seen in a while, came up to me and asked how i was doing.  He didn't look familiar to me at all, and after about 15 minutes of chatting, i finally got up the nerve to as "Who are you?" and he told me his name, which i recognize but still couldn't place with the face.  He had a beard, which he hadn't had the last time we met, and finally he smiled and i recognized him.  But it was interesting, this total lack of recognition, and got me thinking.  I was always amazed at how teachers could keep track of 30 kids' faces and names and know who each person was; thought it was a special skill.  Going to conferences, where networking is key, always proved stressful.  I'd meet somebody interesting, whom i was supposed to connect with the next day, but they'd be wearing a different shirt the next day and i'd have no idea who they were.  I remember thinking that if some famous celebrity were to be walking down the street and ask me for directions, i wouldn't recognise them.  And then thinking that might be refreshing for some people. And then, in art, drawing people, i was never comfortable with faces, i'd draw people looking away...or just unfinished sketches with blanks where the face should be. It finally dawned on me, that unless i make a concerted effort, i don't recognize faces.  And i think that was part of my shyness. It's hard to feel at ease with people when you realize you're supposed to know that you know them....

I've since learned some tricks, to consciously make the measurements that most people do automatically.  But i have to remember; i don't even bother with trying to add names into the mix, it's enough just to put the pieces together.  And it's better, much better--as long as i remember.

I now know that "face-blindness", or prosopagnosia, is a thing.  Though i don't know if i really have it, when i read the official diagnosis requirements. I recognize my face in the mirror; can pick out "me" in baby pictures, and my brothers and friends, to a limited extent, in old photographs. And i can call up familiar faces in my memory...though when i do, there are key features i latch onto, that i then build the face around.