At a school of 500 people, "wait, who's that?" is just my normal.
I've been in IT for about twenty-five years now — development, operations, tech support, a bit of everything. I left my company, and these days I do contract work for an AI startup while going back to school to study computer science properly. I also volunteer for a tech community, so I probably meet more new people than most.
The school has around 500 students enrolled — some show up occasionally, others come every single day. "Wait, who's that again?" is just part of daily life there. But I'm used to it by now, so I don't worry about asking twice. At mixers, the first thing I tell people is, "Fair warning, I'll ask you the same things more than once — your name, whatever." I've probably asked the same person "sorry, what's your name again, where are you from, what do you do" more times than I can count.
When I heard the prevalence of prosopagnosia is around 2.5%, my first thought was, "wait, that's it? That few people?" For me it had always just felt completely normal.
I couldn't remember faces even as a kid.
Looking back, it's been like this since I was little. In elementary and middle school, friends would tell me stories about "Dai-chan" from the class next door, and I'd think, "who is that," while nodding along like I knew exactly who they meant. Asking "who?" every single time felt rude, so I just went along with it.
When my kids were in elementary school, the parent community was rough. I couldn't recognize other people's kids either, so when it was my turn for neighborhood duties and someone said "so-and-so's kid did this" or "whoever's mom said that," I had no idea who was who. I genuinely could not keep names straight.
I wasn't the only one, though — a few other moms told me it was hard for them too. Kids grow up fast, so once they look more grown-up or their voice changes, it's "okay, I have no idea who this is anymore." A haircut, or not wearing their usual hat — that alone is enough to make me think, "wait... do I know this person?"
My husband's favorite actors disappear the moment they're in a different movie.
I don't recognize celebrities' faces either. Not even the huge idol groups everyone knows. People say things like "I watched that movie with so-and-so in it," using names, and I just don't know. Even for athletes — even Shohei Ohtani — if I see him on a poster, the best I can do is "this looks like it's probably Ohtani."
My husband loves movies, and when he tells me who's in one, I recognize the name but can't connect it to a face. Within a single movie I can follow "this character," but if the same actor shows up in a different film, I lose the thread completely. I've seen Tom Cruise dozens of times so I can manage him, but say "Robert De Niro" and I'm honestly not sure I could pick him out.
Forget birthdays — I can't even remember my own family's ages.
Forget birthdays, I can't even keep track of my family's ages. For my middle kid I can work it out — "turned twenty last year, so" — but for my oldest it's "wait, how old are they again?" And my parents — I ask every year, "are you turning sixty this year?", get the answer, and forget it again by next year. If there's some kind of hook, like "same birthday as my son," I can actually remember that person.
On the flip side, there are people I remember instantly. Someone with really big eyes, or clear double eyelids, or a great beard, or a distinctive voice. If I can latch onto some kind of "feature," that person sticks.
A notes app is my external memory.
As a workaround, I keep notes on my laptop at school — their login ID, what we talked about, anything distinctive about them, all written down. I don't check it day to day, but when I really need to, I go back and look, and it's like, "oh right, this person."
I don't know anyone else who does this, which honestly surprises me more — "wait, nobody else takes notes? How is everyone else keeping track?" I did know one person who kept a private notes section in a chat tool that only they could see.
Remote work made things easier, honestly. On video calls, your name shows up right under your face. If anything, work got a little easier during the pandemic.
Not bad enough to see a doctor. But I've never talked about this for a whole hour before.
I've never seen a doctor about it. It's inconvenient, but it doesn't get in the way of my life. If I meet someone a few times and talk for even five minutes, I can go "oh, it's this person" — so I have a feeling a doctor would basically say "just keep meeting them and talking," and that would be that.
There was a time when it bothered me — "who was that just now," or talking to someone thinking they were someone else. I used to hate not knowing why I couldn't remember faces — whether it's because I'm not interested, or just how my brain is wired, I honestly still don't know. But at this point I've made my peace with it. There's not much else to do but make peace with it.
Still, this is the first time in my life I've talked about this topic for this long. Stories from people like me don't really come up much, do they? I'm glad I got to talk about it.
About This Story
This is based on one individual’s personal experience and is not intended to provide medical information or a diagnosis. To protect their privacy, we use a pseudonym.