I have Bitch Face.
What is Bitch Face? Allow me to educate you, my dear friends. Bitch Face is a chronic condition that affects thousands, if not millions! It’s when someone’s neutral facial expression looks angry.
Simply put, that person looks like a bitch. It doesn’t matter if they’re as sweet as a Georgia peach. They still look like a bitch. It doesn’t matter if they’ve had a bad day. They still look like a bitch. It doesn’t matter if they purposely try to look unapproachable because they’re anti-social or in a hurry. They still look like a bitch.
Why is this important? Sufferers of Chronic Bitch Face are constantly heckled by strangers on the street. I am a sufferer of CBF, and I can confirm this is true. I’ve always had it.
When I was in grade school, teachers were worried about me. The school psychologist pulled me out of class for weeks to “talk.” She thought I was miserable and probably abused at home. This made me really self conscious. In high school, my friends constantly asked, “What’s wrong!”
I always look like a bitch. I’m usually deep in thought, spacing out, or focusing on where the hell I’m going. Strangers sometimes approach me on the street, saying “It’s not so bad!” “Smile!” and other nonsense. It’s pretty invasive. Who knows–maybe I’m afraid of walking down the street alone. Maybe I’m coming back from a funeral. Maybe I’m depressed. We don’t know what goes on in the minds of strangers as we pass them on the street. It’s not okay to remind them of their visible misery. Just mind your own fucking business.
Do you tell strangers to smile? Or rather, command them to smile? Go ahead and throw yourself off a bridge.
The thing is, this is just how my face looks. I’m not angry–I’m really not. I’m thinking about something. And I don’t think it’s normal to bounce down the street smiling at people who I
don’t care about don’t know.
At the same time, I don’t care to do anything about it, because I’m a city girl. I don’t make an effort to smile at strangers. We all ignore each other here. It’s a defense mechanism. It’s how I keep creepers away. Nobody wants to approach/mug/harass Miss Bitch Face.
Let’s pretend I decide to actively resist my natural Bitch Face. I slap on a huge fake smile and go about my day. I run errands. I go out to eat. I walk down the street alone. Still smiling! Do I not look like an axe-wielding maniac? Are you not weary on the chick who’s staring into your soul (yeah, I tend to do that) and smiling?
Yeah…I thought so.
Women people with Bitch Face are constantly harassed by middle aged men strangers on the street. They’re commanded to ‘smile.’ It’s not 1950 anymore and we’re not on the set of Leave it to Beaver.
For now, I focus on resisting Bitch Face in contexts that matter–at work and out with friends. To my fellow sufferers of CBF, here’s an a funny take on dealing with it.
Do you have Bitch Face?