What It’s Like to Be Profoundly Face-Blind. ⇒
20 July 2015, early afternoon
When I was younger, it was always very comical when my mother and I were looking for each other. Nothing would make me more anxious than meeting somebody in a public place. When I was 18, we went to a theme park in Ohio. I was dragged against my will and I was unhappy in that distinctly teenage way. I got even more pissed off because my mother and my siblings were late. Meanwhile, my mother was angry because her unruly daughter was nowhere to be found and we were actually standing 15 feet from each other. I had been with them earlier but in the interim I’d put up my hair and taken off my sweatshirt because I was getting sunburned. I hadn’t paid a whole lot of attention to what they were wearing, which is how I would usually recognize them. My husband has a very distinctive look: a very long beard and hair. I tell him, You can’t ever shave your beard or I won’t be able to find you!
When my kids were little I’d take pictures of them before we went anywhere so if they got lost I could tell people what they look like. My son had a distinctive blue and white camouflage hat that he wore for five years. It was great for me when we were in the playground because I could track him. The rule was that my kids had to keep me in their line of sight. If there was a crowd of kids and mine weren’t wearing anything distinctive, I was totally lost.
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