Why I Can't Remember Names Anymore — And What Finally Worked
Her name was Linda. I know that now. But standing outside the pharmacy last March, smiling at my neighbor of four years, my brain just… didn't have it. Gone. I remembered her dog's name. Cooper. I remembered she drives a white Suzuki. I remembered she once told me her daughter lives in Pune. But her name? Nothing. I laughed it off, said something about being distracted lately, and went home feeling genuinely unsettled. Not because I forgot a name — that happens. But because it keeps happening. More and more. And I'm only 44. That night I sat with my chai going cold and thought — okay, something is actually wrong here. This isn't just being tired or busy. This is something else. I Spent Years Thinking I Was Just "Bad With Names" That's the story I told myself for a long time. Some people are good with faces. Some are good with names. I'm just the face guy. Except that wasn't always true. In my 20s and early 30s I remembered everyone. Colleag...