The Curse of RBF

The Curse of RBF

            It is said that most of our communication is non-verbal.  What we see when we look at someone—especially for the first time—even before they speak—determines our attitude towards them and our willingness to listen carefully, put up a defense, or dismiss altogether.  First impressions are lasting.

If this is true, I’m in trouble.

            First, I have blue eyes and poor vision.  Blue eyes have less melanin, less color cells, less protection from bright lights.  And although I go to the optometrist regularly and wear my bifocals faithfully, I squint a lot.  Squinting doesn’t lend to a pretty face.  I’ve squinted since I was a child—there are photos to prove it.  In one, I am a blond-haired, blue-eyed four year old hugging a cat and looking at the camera.  On my face is that classic distorting squint that encompasses all of my face muscles.  I even earned the nickname “Squint” in high school.  Granted, it was after I was in a roll-over car accident and got a concussion and black swollen eye, but still. 

            Second, when I’m concentrating, I unintentionally chew on the inside of my cheek.  It must be genetic, because my great-grandmother did the same thing.  My mom would see me concentrating with my jaw churning, and she’d say, “Gotta hold your mouth right, huh?”  I don’t do this consciously.  I’ve noticed I grimace at even the smallest of uncomfortable issues—like lifting heavy things off the floor (okay, heavy for me is 5 pounds!), putting my socks on when my body is sore, combing out tangles in hair….you get it. 

But most of all, the thing that affects me the most:

I have a resting bitch face (E calls it RBF). 

            When I am not visibly emoting, my face rests in such a way that I look pissed off and mean.  I’m not grumpy, I’m just not smiling all the time.  This is something E AND my boss have not caught onto yet.  Since I am quite expressive and downright manic at times, people evidently get used to my bounciness.  But I can’t be wide-eyed, eyebrow-raised, grinning all the time.  Sometimes I just want to relax.  Or I’m thinking, but not angry.  I don’t intend to look irked—my face just rests naturally that way. 

            When E says, “What’s the matter?” and insists I’m mad, dismissive, or annoyed—THAT is what pisses me off.  Don’t get me wrong—I have my angry, pouty, bitchy moments.  Quite a few of them, actually.  And when I’m truly pouting or sad, I do like someone to acknowledge it and try to remedy my sour mood.  But I do believe, as a naturally erratic personality, it won’t be much of a guessing game when I’m actually, truly in a bad mood. 

            In my professional world, I’m very serious and almost stoic.  I’ve tried being light-hearted or more relaxed, but it just doesn’t always happen.  Perhaps it’s because I’m a female in a male-dominated profession, and many people are still biased enough that I need to work hard to be taken as seriously as my male counterparts.  Perhaps it’s because I concentrate with determination.  Perhaps it’s because I am temperamental, and afraid that, if left naturally to my own devices, I’ll do or say something extreme that will leave a scar so big it shows years later.  That’s happened before, especially during my manic phases—I become so obsessed with something and I react in the extreme to even the smallest things that it just isn’t funny.  It’s exasperating!

            E says I feel things more strongly than others.  Some doctors say many of those diagnosed with manic depression (that’s me!) have obsessive tendencies.  Whatever it is, I have to keep myself in catch more so than the average person, and it must show on my face.  And I’ve become so good at it and done it for so long, that, even though I don’t go to extremes anymore (hopefully mellowing out in my old age….), I still suppress the emotions that go with my ups and downs. 

            So the next time you see me—or anyone else that has a bitch face on—and think we’re having a bad day or someone’s got the best of us or we aren’t happy with our lot—remember to ask first.  Those first impressions aren’t always correct.  Never assume.

Julie Soaring Eagle Paschold

October 12, 2017