Through lots of trial and error, I learned which muscles on my face match which expressions in a photo. Now, a posed photo of me looks almost as good as a candidly captured moment of joy. But, like one bite from a tree of knowledge, I can’t undo that awareness. The mere presence of other people gives my mind a preview of what my face is doing. I feel uncomfortable if it’s inaccurate, such as a blank look when I’m actually interested, and I’ve gotten into the habit of manually correcting it. Awareness of my face led to awareness of other ways I might be perceived, too. I learned how to murmur
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