All I knew was that somewhere inside my marriage—quietly, gradually, and without warning—I began losing the ability to recognize faces. Not strangers. Not distant acquaintances. People I knew.

If you tremble, you’re emotional. If you set boundaries, you’re high-conflict. If you cry, you’re unstable.

I grew up in a military family. My dad is a retired Colonel who was an army ranger. The cadence of discipline, sacrifice, and service wasn’t just something we watched. It was the rhythm of our daily lives.