"Visual Realization"

Has this ever happened to you. Have you ever looked at someone, failing to see them, but rather seeing your impression of what you think they look like? I was thinking about this issue of what I'll call "visual realization" (don't know if that's any clinical psychology term because I just made it up) as I sat in my cubicle at work the other day. Let me try to explain this "awakening" that has happened to me on more than one occasion.

In my life I've looked at people close to me (i.e. parents, siblings, ex-girlfriends and so on) but never truly realized what they looked like until I chose to see them. Let me break it down with an example. I'll use my Pops as the primary example in this because he's one of those people I'm closest to. I've looked at my Father/Dad/Pop's face for as many years as I've been on this Earth, but it was only in recent years that I actually saw him (visually realized him) for the first time. I actually studied his dark brown face, and found on it the years of hard work and worries past, residing in the wrinkles on his forehead. I discovered many of the troubles and joys that he has witnessed over the years of his life, in the graying of his eyes. On his cheeks I saw the remnants of smiles gone, the trails of tears run, and the triumphs of love felt. This man is my Father, but I'd never studied him like this before. I'd never realized what he looked like. He was always my Dad, the man with a mole on his nose, and eyes tinted red. When I finally visually realized who he was I told him "Dad, I've never actually realized how you look." I mean sure there had been the numerous comparisons of where I get my own facial features from, but I'd never taken the time to actually see the man I owe my gratitude to, for helping create me.

He's not the only one that I've had this visual realization of, it's happened to me with regards to a few women that I've loved. In some cases after the "awakening" of the visual, I saw that this woman whom I had loved and lusted over and thought was the most beautiful woman in the world, was in reality - only pretty. More often than not their facial proportions fell into place differently, once my eyes were devoid of the cataract of love. These women were no longer as gorgeous as I had thought them to once be, no, they were in fact no longer goddesses, but rather mere mortals. That's not to take anything away from them however, because they are still beautiful Queens in their own right, but for me the visual realization I experienced allowed me to see them differently. I'd almost say that it allowed me to see them honestly.

Now I over-stand that this may be a foreign occurrence to some of you and perhaps I'm not as sane as others think, but maybe there are those of you that this "visual realization" has occurred to? If so, I'd love to hear about it.