That’s… just my face

I feel like I need to get this tattooed across my forehead. Just because I’m not smiling like a lunatic doesn’t mean I’m angry/annoyed/sad/mad/etc. That’s literally just my face. I’m not the kind of person to walk around all day with a smile on my face. Sure, when dealing with customers I put on a mask, but that definitely is not my normal state of being. I don’t know if I have resting bitch face, exactly, but I have resting something face for sure.

Someone recently told me that my “retail face” is really rather amazing. If I’m dealing with you as a customer you’d think I was friendly, personable, and helpful. These are not qualities I portray on a normal basis. I sometimes wonder if my ability to put on a mask – not just a happy one, but really any one – stems from my mental illnesses and my upbringing. I was always told to smile, to be happy, to not look so sour, etc. So putting on these masks is second nature at this point.

I can be happy, joyful, empathetic, sympathetic. It’s really only at home that these emotions come out for year. When I’m in public everything is bottled up and I show people either what the want to see or what they expect to see. I very rarely am relaxed enough outside of my house to actually show true emotion. There are some friends I let my guard down around, but that’s only a select few. (Mike has said I even use the retail voice on the phone with family and some friends.) I guess in some manner of speaking I’ve just been programmed over the years to not show emotion.

I’ve been getting at the whole feeling emotion thing. But I still don’t know how to show it. No, it’s not that. I’m not comfortable enough to show it. I just grit my teeth and put on the mask.

I’m new to this whole emotion thing. And I have to be honest. I don’t really like it sometimes.