For just a moment, I thought she was going to cry.
She had turned her body and her face away from her husband and their two young children. I don’t think she knew anybody could see her. There was pain in her face. It wasn’t anger. It was the pain of disappointment and resignation. And then she pasted her mask back on and returned to the life which seemed to hurt her so much.
That’s what I saw anyway. Maybe I’m wrong. But for the long moment when I looked into her face and saw something that no human should have to feel, time slowed and I felt as though I could have reached out and touched her soul.
This was Friday night in the Walmart near my house, but I see similar pain on faces all around me, almost every day. I see people who I believe are miserable. It seems as though the pain and hurt and disappointment are etched onto their faces — hidden briefly by masks — and I wonder why nobody else seems to see what I see.

Too many voices with little to say: Politics matters less and less to me
English teacher tells Wellesley grads: ‘You’re nothing special’ — not yet
I’ve now launched a new podcast about search for love and family
Best years of our lives? For me, teen years were start of feeling like alien
Your life is built from choices, while the days of your life go by
Goodbye, Charlotte (2009-2016)
Desperate need to be special drives me to try to matter to those I love
Deep-seated shame makes it hard for me to take my needs seriously