* Names have been changed
Over coffee, Soo*, my long-time friend and a mother of two teenagers let on that she wanted to talk to her younger daughter, Maddie*, now 13, about her face. It seemed Maddie's face looked annoyed or upset when she was not doing or feeling anything in particular. It was simply her “resting face”.
“Should I tell her?” Soo asked.
“What would you say?” I asked back.
Soo was genuinely concerned. She worried her daughter’s natural disposition might limit her extra curricular and social opportunities. Worse, it could land her in other people’s bad books. Either way, Soo believed Maddie’s facial expression would make life unnecessarily difficult. As a good mother, it felt as if the onus fell on her to do something to prompt a course correction. Inaction, in fact, would be an act of disservice to her daughter.
“Well, be careful how you word it. Perhaps phrase it as a question?” I offered.
“I have. I’ve tried asking ‘are you okay Maddie?’” Soo said. “I’ve also tried being more pointed and asked ‘are you upset about something? Would you like to talk about it?’”
“And?”
“‘Yeah Mum, I am fine’, she says. How else can I tell her?"
Soo divulged how well-meaning relatives at family gatherings would keep asking Maddie if she was alright. Or if someone had offended her. There had to be valid reasons for her looking the way she did, they must think.
Soo was tired of deflecting and defending whenever she herself got questioned about Maddie’s innocent state of being. Nowadays, ahead of get-togethers, she found herself launching into a speech about how it would only be polite to be cheerful. I suspect her attempts at setting the stage for more pleasant parties hadn’t gotten the results she hoped for.
I felt for Soo. I felt for Soo because as a mother myself, I could relate to her concerns. They were legitimate – why would you knowingly let your child’s life be ridden with obstacles, especially if it is something she could change quickly and easily?
But even more so, I felt for Maddie. I felt for Maddie because I understood. And I understood because I was once Maddie.
“Well, I have a feeling you and the adults around her are more uncomfortable about her facial expression, or lack thereof, than she is. In fact, I bet it doesn’t even bother Maddie. I should know because I have a ‘resting bitch face’ and I was told that in no uncertain terms by my Dad!” I said. “Not in those exact words, of course, the term probably didn’t even exist then. But Soo, you know how my Dad was like – he didn’t mince his words.”
Soo nodded. She knew what I was saying about my Dad.
“Oh, you are the best person to ask then! How did you take it?”
“Not well at all! I was hurt,” I recalled. “It’s been so many years but some of what he said stuck. Like ‘you look as if the whole world owes you something’, ‘would it cost you anything to smile a little?’ and ‘I’m telling you this for your own good.’” I felt a pang of emotions which took me by surprise.
I spent days, maybe even weeks after, looking into the mirror at my regular resting face and then trying on different looks. I pursed the centre of my upper and lower lips together. I lifted both ends of my mouth. Then I took them up a notch and then a few more.
It was achievable – how Ms. Congeniality might look like. However, sustaining the “enhanced” facial arrangement for more than a minute was a physical test of endurance. I was (and still am) never one to be able to keep up an act – not for long anyway.
As I tired of contorting my face, none of which felt natural or fitting, I felt incredibly misunderstood. It dawned on 14-year old me that I was not good enough as I was. I heard my Dad’s words to mean there was something wrong with me that needed fixing or correcting. I had to pretend to be someone else so that people (almost always adults) around me could feel less awkward and more relaxed – never mind I was all twisted. Of course no one said this, but the meaning was clear as day.
I told Soo this.
***
If my memory serves me right, it was Oprah’s talk show on television (this was in the 90s) on resting faces that got me thinking it wasn't my fault. Apparently, there was a range of “resting face” looks out there, so while I may not come across as affable as most, I was certainly not trying to look pissed off. It was all I needed to stop scrutinising my face in the mirror.
***
It’s been a month since I chatted with Soo and I don’t know if she had said anything to Maddie.
As I am writing this now, I believe young Maddies out there would appreciate a “how are you doing today?” and not much more, really. As an adult, if you feel so inclined to chastise or fix, you might want to check your motivation for doing so, well-intentioned as they may be. I dare say it’s almost always about you, more than “Maddie”.
While I will not stand for Jade being rude, and have cued her to mind her manners on several occasions, it is important for me to stop short at telling her to “be nice” and pander to someone else’s preferences. Like it or not, she would come to know the ways of the world in time – don’t we all?
As it is, Jade (not yet seven) has already learned to contain her emotions in front of people. She does this in order not to “hurt their feelings” or “get them in trouble” in her own words, especially those she likes and cares about.
I hope she stays true to herself as she grows. That when she does temper her outward displays, she is exercising her choice and not because of a lifetime of internalisation.
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