I know the internet has heard all about hateful resting face. In case you’ve been living under a virtual rock, it’s when a person has a permanent neutral or grouchy look on their face. People say the permanent stone face scowl can be a curse, but I promise you that there’s something much worse than that:
Happy Resting Face.
Yes, I have happy resting face, and that means 99.9% of the time, my face is in a permanent state of happiness. When I’m excited, I smile. What I’m irritated, I smile. When I’m stressed, I smile. When I’m nervous, I smile. When I get upset, I smile…well…most of the time.
The happy resting face isn’t all great though. Sometimes it gives people the wrong impression and welcomes all kinds of unwanted attention and advice, such as:
I look like I really want your advice.
Hey now, just because I strike up a pleasant and comfortable conversation with you doesn’t mean I appreciate a 10 minute lecture about why I shouldn’t be giving my preschooler a few French fries.
I have a face that says, “I’d love to buy whatever you’re selling!”
I said, “No Thanks” about six times, but the smile on my face tells you I’ll fall for it eventually, and I can tell by looking at you that you aren’t giving up. I’ll be really nice about it, but I’m still not buying your organic sheepskin kosher all-natural made-in-space body wrap to rid myself of dangerous toxins.
I have a face that says, “I’ll believe anything you say!”
Oh really? You are 19 years old, but you were a Navy Seal and WW2 veteran? Oh, your job was classified, I see. Oh, you have a doctorate degree as well! Come on, buddy. Just because I’m smiling and nodding, I’m still not buying it. I’m just silently hoping you stop talking.
I look way too easy to talk to.
Sorry middle of the mall kiosk-workers, I know I look like I can’t wait to talk to you, but the truth is that it’s about two hours past nap time for this toddler and I’m booking it to the car before she falls asleep in this stroller.
It looks like I want to hear your life story.
I know we just met on this park bench, but I would love to hear about the time your ex-husband told your best friend’s mom that thing that caused your marriage and friendship to fall apart, all your dirty little secrets, and all about your sex life. Actually, I don’t. Of course I feel awkward knowing all of your dirty laundry, but I’m too nice to give you that impression.
People think I’m clueless and ditsy.
I see you coming up to me with that sly smile. You’re about to tell me my shirt is inside out, and you’re so excited because you think I don’t know. Girl I know. The truth is that my baby spit up on me as I was walking out the door, and the tag in the back was the lesser of two evils.
