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During the second week of my sophomore year in high school, my English teacher unexpectedly grabbed my arm as I was leaving class. “Stop making that face,” she said.
“What face?” I replied, surprised.
“You know exactly what I mean. That face — the one that could stop time.”
That moment, which occurred twenty-five years ago, remains etched in my memory. Feeling bewildered and embarrassed, I walked home that day, questioning what I had done to provoke such harshness. I was attentive in class, never spoke out of turn, and actively participated in discussions.
For days, I scrutinized my reflection in the mirror. Was it my bold eyebrows and deep brown eyes? My bone structure? Or was it that I made too much eye contact? I couldn’t pinpoint it.
So, I began practicing the “appropriate” way to make eye contact, deliberately looking away to avoid seeming aggressive. For months, I tried to soften my strong features: relaxed brows, a subtle smile, and a tilted head to convey interest.
Sound absurd? It is.
My classroom behavior was exemplary, and I won’t excuse how my teacher addressed the situation. As an adult, I now recognize the message she was trying to convey: my expressions were too intense for her comfort, and at 16, I was too inexperienced to realize that I didn’t exist to make others feel at ease.
My exterior never matched my interior. It still doesn’t.
A guy I fancied in college once told me I’d be beautiful if I smiled more. I refer to him as a boy intentionally, as he was truly just that. His words stung as I navigated young adult relationships, sowing seeds of doubt and anxiety.
In my spiral of adolescent self-doubt, one thing became clear: society wanted me to wear a constant smile. People expected me to feign authenticity.
The phrase “resting bitch face” (RBF) gained traction in 2013 through memes and gifs. It describes a person (usually a woman) who appears annoyed or displeased while actually being relaxed or happy. It’s often aimed at women who don’t present a perfect smile. The horror!
Many times, I’ve received remarks about my severe demeanor, with strangers assuming I’m unfriendly or judgmental. Trust me, I’m not judging you; in fact, I couldn’t care less if you judge me.
I refuse to fake a smile just to make others comfortable. If you want to label it RBF, that’s your prerogative. To me, it’s simply my face.
Authenticity is essential — at least to me.
“Stop making that face,” “Smile more,” and similar advice over the years made me feel like I didn’t belong. It took years of reflection on those early encounters to realize that fear of rejection led me to conform to others’ expectations. Breaking free from unhelpful habits requires honest effort.
I spent years pondering what I could do differently. Preoccupied with what I was not, I failed to recognize what I was: a good listener, attentive and curious. The world needs more listeners! In a society filled with noise, there’s ample room for quiet contemplation.
The peace I’ve found now was worth the perplexing interactions I had with my English teacher and that boy in college.
When you need someone to be present and understanding, I’m here for you. My capacity for love is immense, often overwhelming. You may not see it reflected on my face, but I assure you, it resides within.
I see you.
I recognize your silent struggles, your pain, and the joy that brightens your eyes. I hear your words and the unspoken ones too.
This article was originally published on June 14, 2021.
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Summary:
In this candid reflection, Sarah Thompson shares her journey of grappling with societal expectations surrounding facial expressions and the pressure to smile. From a hurtful comment made by a teacher in high school to the challenges posed by peers, she explores how these experiences shaped her understanding of authenticity and self-acceptance. Ultimately, she embraces the notion that her true self is more than what others perceive, advocating for the importance of being genuine in a world that often demands conformity.