In the quiet suburbs outside Norwich, I became someone I barely recognise when I think back on it. Late at night, when the streets were empty and curtains were half-drawn, I would slow my walk and let my eyes linger where they had no right to be. I told myself I was only curious. That I wasn't hurting anyone. That I was just another anonymous shape in the dark. But curiosity curdled into habit, and habit into something uglier. The night a light snapped on suddenly and a face looked straight back at me, I felt seen in the worst possible way. I walked home shaking. I never went back. The shame stayed.