Imagine standing among 20 goats of the same colour 🐐🐐🐐🐐🐐

Someone points to one goat and says,
“Remember this one.”

After a few minutes, you are asked to find the same goat again.

All goats look similar 👀
No clear mark ❌
No difference ⚠️

You feel confused 😕
You hesitate 🤔
You are unsure ⏳

That confusion is face blindness.

What Changes Recognition

Now imagine that goat has:

• a scar ✂️

• a bent horn 🌀

• a limp 🦵

Suddenly, recognition becomes easy ✅

This is how my brain works.
It cannot rely on faces.
It depends on differences and patterns.

How Face Blindness Works

With face blindness, the brain:

• does not store faces properly 🧠

• cannot separate similar-looking people

• fails to match face with identity

So when people have:

• similar age

• similar build

• similar hairstyle

The brain goes blank ⛔

How I Cope

Since faces are unreliable, my brain uses:

• voice 🎤

• way of speaking

• behaviour

• body language

So instead of remembering:

“This is Parmikash”

The brain remembers:

“The person who speaks fast and laughs loudly.”

This is adaptation, not choice.

The Hidden Problem

Behaviour changes 🔄
Context changes 🌍
Appearance changes ✂️

Recognition can fail again.

And people think:

• attitude

• arrogance

• disrespect

But the truth is neurological limitation 🧠

Why This Matters

Face blindness is invisible 🚫👁️
People see the reaction — not the struggle.

The following real-life incidents show how face blindness has caused serious social and emotional damage in my life. ⬇ ⬇️ 

Face blindness does not stop at confusion.
It creates constant fear of making mistakes.

Every social interaction carries risk:

• One wrong assumption

• One missed recognition

• One misunderstood reaction

And the damage happens before I even realise it.

Over time, this leads to:

• social withdrawal

• mental exhaustion

• fear of gatherings

• guilt for things I never intended

This is not overthinking.
This is self-protection.

Marriage is not just about two people.
It involves:

• families

• relatives

• social functions

• expectations

• daily interactions

With face blindness:

• I may repeatedly fail to recognise people

• I may unintentionally insult or hurt others

• My partner may constantly have to explain my behaviour

• Small mistakes may turn into permanent relationship damage

• Continuous pressure can worsen my condition

Even if my intentions are good,
the damage will still happen.

This makes marriage unsafe for everyone involved, not just me.

When I stay single:

• I can set boundaries

• I can limit social exposure

• I can recover mentally after mistakes

• The impact of errors stays mostly with me

Single life is already demanding, but it is manageable.

Marriage removes these controls
and multiplies the risk.

Choosing to stay single is not avoidance.
It is a responsible decision based on reality.

Route blindness, for me, isn’t just about roads or driving directions.
It’s a difficulty with remembering routes, sequences, and spatial layouts—even after visiting the same place many times.

I often struggle with “what comes next” in a route. When there are multiple turns or similar-looking paths, my brain doesn’t hold the sequence well. Landmarks don’t stay clearly in memory, which makes navigation unreliable.

This doesn’t happen only outdoors. It also shows up inside places like malls, hospitals, apartments, and large office buildings, where finding entrances, exits, or even the way back can become confusing—sometimes within the same visit.

This is not due to lack of attention or interest.
I genuinely enjoy traveling and riding, but my brain struggles with spatial and sequence-based navigation.

Route blindness affects me more in environments with repeated patterns — such as malls, hospitals, apartments, or office buildings with similar corridors or rooms.

Even after spending time inside a place, I may not remember how to return the same way. Sometimes I follow others to understand the exit path.

My color blindness adds to this difficulty, as visual cues like gate colors or markings are not always reliable for me.

Because of route blindness, I depend heavily on maps, photos, or other people while navigating.

While I enjoy traveling and riding — especially listening to music 🎧 — new or complex environments can feel stressful and mentally draining.

In professional or social settings, I try not to reveal this difficulty, which adds extra mental pressure during visits or meetings.

If I get married while living with route blindness, traveling would become a frequent and unavoidable part of life. Attending relatives’ functions, family gatherings, ceremonies, and visiting different places would happen regularly.

For me, frequent travel to unfamiliar locations, crowded houses, apartments, and function halls is mentally exhausting. Managing routes, finding places, remembering paths, and navigating similar-looking areas repeatedly adds significant stress.

This is not about unwillingness, but about the practical difficulty of handling constant movement and navigation. Over time, this could affect my comfort, energy, and overall well-being, especially when such travel becomes routine rather than occasional.

If I stay single, I have more control over how often and where I travel. While I still attend important family functions, there are situations I can reasonably avoid or limit without pressure.

In many cases, close family members like Naveen or Sarath Anna can accompany me when needed, which makes navigation and unfamiliar environments easier to manage. Having familiar company reduces confusion and mental load during travel.

This approach allows me to balance social responsibilities while protecting my mental comfort. It is not about isolation, but about choosing a structure that feels manageable and realistic given my navigation difficulties.

I can understand and name colours, but certain shades look very similar to me.
For example, yellow and green often appear alike, and dark green can look similar to brown.

My brain understands colours more as RGB or coded values rather than clear visual differences. Because of this, colour does not stand out naturally for me.

I do not have a functional sense of smell, and my sense of taste is effectively absent.
Smells don’t register for me at all, and flavours like sweet, sour, or bitter aren’t clearly perceived.

What I experience as “taste” is mainly spice 🌶️.
Fun fact: spice isn’t actually a flavour—it’s a pain or temperature sensation, not a true taste signal. Apart from this, food doesn’t carry distinct taste information for me.

In design work, I often feel unsure about colour combinations and final colour choices.
I may not confidently judge whether colours match well or suit the design visually.

To manage this, I rely on:

• Colour codes (RGB / HEX)

• AI tools and references

• Logical colour rules instead of instinct

Even with these tools, I sometimes feel hesitant to confirm a design purely based on visual judgement.

In everyday situations, colour-based judgement is unreliable for me.

At traffic signals—especially red and green—the colours can appear similar. Because of this, I rely less on colour and more on watching other vehicles and overall traffic movement. If I am alone at a signal, I slow down and proceed only after careful checking.

Clothing is a more frustrating area. I often feel confident that a colour combination matches, sometimes believing it’s the same one my mother helped choose earlier. Because of colour confusion combined with memory confusion, this is often incorrect. Just as I’m ready to leave, my mother notices the mismatch and asks me to change.

That moment is especially discouraging. It delays me, breaks my confidence, and reminds me that my judgement can’t always be trusted in these situations. Over time, this has become one of the daily frustrations I struggle with the most.

Smell blindness mainly affects safety and awareness and often requires external support.
I can’t detect warning smells like gas leaks, petrol, smoke, or spoiled food. These are signals most people notice instinctively, but they don’t reach me at all. Because of this, I rely on visual checks, fixed routines, and other people’s awareness, rather than smell.

Taste blindness mainly affects how I experience food, and this is something I can manage.
Since flavour doesn’t register for me, meals aren’t guided by taste. I eat mostly based on texture, familiarity, or the sensation of spice, instead of flavour preference.

My memory is largely erased, but not completely.
I can remember a few important anchor moments — like my first day at school, first day in college, some funny moments, epic moments, and a few major incidents that emotionally stood out to me.

But the period between 2016–2019 is almost entirely missing for me.
Most personal experiences from that time never came back, even though the skills I learned during that period are still with me.

My memories are not always stored clearly in my brain.
Sometimes I remember that thing happened, but I get confused about where it happened, when it happened, or with whom.

This confusion often happens because of my other challenges like face blindness and route blindness.
So even when an event is real in my memory, the people, place, or setting can get mixed up.

In short, my brain saves the moment, but sometimes loses the correct details around it.

In daily life, my memory challenges are not about forgetting everything.
I usually remember people I interact with often, like clients and close friends.

But when interactions are occasional, brief, or without clear context, my brain does not store them well.
Later, I may remember that I met someone, but not clearly remember who they were, where we met, or why we met.

Because of face blindness and route blindness, memories don’t always get linked to the right face or place.
So the experience exists in my mind, but the surrounding details don’t stay attached.

Without notes, photos, or reminders, recalling such details becomes difficult and sometimes embarrassing.

There is a constant mental pressure of not being sure whether I will recognize someone or remember a shared moment.
This creates hesitation in social situations and makes casual interactions feel mentally heavy.

When people recall moments that I cannot access, it creates an uncomfortable gap.
I understand the situation from what they say, but I don’t have the same memory connection to it.

This can affect confidence, even though the intention and effort to remember are present.

Because of memory loss, memory confusion, and face blindness, my brain often cannot quickly place who a person is or how I know them.

In local areas or familiar places where relatives and known people may appear unexpectedly, this creates a constant internal question:

• Is this someone I know?

• Is this a relative I’ve forgotten?

When someone starts speaking to me, I may not recognize them or recall the connection. This moment is uncomfortable and mentally stressful. I’m not avoiding people, but avoiding the risk of appearing rude or disconnected when my brain cannot match the face to the memory.

Over time, this has made me more cautious about moving freely in places where unplanned social interactions are likely. The hesitation comes from uncertainty and past awkward experiences, not from a lack of interest in people.

In places with repetitive layouts, many things look identical to me. For example:

• Rooms with similar doors

• Buildings or entrances that look alike

• Parking areas with many similar vehicles

• Malls, hospitals, or offices with repeating floor plans

Because my brain doesn’t register small visual differences well, I can easily confuse one door for another or one area for another, even if I’ve been there before.

When I can’t visually tell similar things apart from my memory, it creates hesitation and mental overload.
I often second-guess myself:
“Is this the same place?”
“Did I already check this?”

This doesn’t come from carelessness.
It’s because my brain doesn’t store visual patterns clearly, so I have to double-check more than others.

I often confuse items that look similar in shape or container.
For example, salt and sugar containers can look the same to my brain, which has led to mistakes while cooking or preparing drinks.

This happens because my brain doesn’t register shape and pattern clearly, and colour, smell, and taste don’t help me distinguish things either.

So I depend more on labels, written names, or fixed storage positions to avoid errors.

In design work, I sometimes recreate layouts or patterns thinking they are new, only to realize later they are very similar to something I already made.

For example, I once worked on a design for a client, then created another version later believing it was different — but the client pointed out it was almost the same layout.

This happens because my brain doesn’t always recognize repeated patterns easily, even when I’ve spent time working on them.

In daily family life, this could mean:

• Confusing similar-looking rooms in relatives’ houses

• Struggling in homes or apartments with repetitive layouts

• Needing more time to adjust to new environments

This is manageable with support, but it does mean I would rely more on familiar routines, fixed positions, and guidance rather than visual memory.

Earlier, clients depended on designers for logos, posters, and websites.
Now, many basic tasks can be done using AI tools and website builders.

This means:

• Some clients still come to me for quality and clarity

• Some clients try to do things themselves using AI

• The value of manual creative work keeps shifting

The pace of change makes long-term career stability uncertain in this field.

Earlier, I used to receive frequent requests for logos, posters, and website design.
Even with lower individual pay, I had more volume of work.

Recently, some clients have started building basic websites or designs on their own using AI tools.
This directly reduces opportunities for small and medium creative work that earlier came to me.

In digital marketing as well, techniques that take years to learn are now available through tools and platforms that can be picked up in weeks.
This makes it harder to rely on any single skill for long-term security.

Creative work suits my strengths.
Moving into a completely different profession would require heavy retraining and constant on-ground movement.

Because of my other challenges (navigation, recognition, sensory differences), shifting into fields that require frequent travel, new environments, or high social exposure is more demanding for me than it is for most people.

So while the industry changes fast, adapting by switching careers is not simple or risk-free for me.

There is a constant background pressure of:

• Will my current skills stay relevant?

• How long before tools replace more of what I do?

• Can I keep adapting fast enough?

This isn’t fear of technology — it’s the reality of working in a field where the ground keeps moving.

Getting married brings added responsibility and expectations of financial stability.
In a career where tools and technology change rapidly, income can be unpredictable.

With my work being affected by fast AI advancements, there is uncertainty about long-term stability in the same profession.
This creates pressure, because adapting or switching careers is not easy for me due to my other challenges.

Marriage would mean I need to be more consistent with earnings, planning, and long-term security.
With a profession that keeps changing, balancing personal responsibilities with career uncertainty becomes more demanding.

This doesn’t mean marriage is impossible.
It means it requires strong understanding, flexibility, and shared planning around financial and career realities.

Staying single gives me more flexibility to adapt to changes in my profession.
I can take risks, reskill, and adjust my career path without the added pressure of supporting a family.

This flexibility makes it easier to navigate a fast-changing creative industry, especially when stability is not guaranteed.