This fall the strangest thing started happening to me. I’d be walking down the street, and person after person after person (mostly women) would be staring at my face.
The first couple times I assumed what anyone would assume: I had food in my teeth or my lipstick on my face or a booger hanging out of my nose. But then, the first, second, third time, I looked in the mirror, I didn’t.
The stares continued. So many women, day after day. I wanted to stop them and ask, “Why?” There was no way this many strangers were suddenly interested in my face. It was the same face I’d always had.