“I Have a Resting Bitch Face”: A Reflection on Life’s Struggles
It wasn’t that extreme at the beginning. My mother often told me how cheerful I was as a kid because I befriended every person I met, and across all ages at that.
However, my facial features change for various reasons. One is puberty, the second is aging, and the third — which by far has the most influence — is nosy people.
I inherited my mother’s voluptuous body and curvy figure. This attracts a lot of attention, which I don’t find pleasing at all. I remember one time a classmate of mine suddenly smacked my bottom because she was fascinated by how big it was.
Mind you, this happens on a regular basis when I am in an interaction with a group.
While it does not occur in my interactions with male acquaintances, I am still upset over the fact that it attracted conversations in front of me about how enormous my body was. I admit I wasn’t comfortable with the changes that puberty brought me, yet some people really crossed my boundaries.
As if the same gender we have is an excuse to inappropriately address my body.
Because of this, I coped with the increasing tension in my eyes and mouth by inadvertently bitching my face. I turned sour, and I aimed sharp eyes at those who sexually harassed me in their minds. That’s why it led me to perfectly sculpt my resting bitch face.
However, I do not exercise rudeness by default. If someone approaches me with the intention of having an important conversation, I am professional in my response. I know how to properly treat people with the emotions that they’re expressing.
So my bitchy face is not an excuse to start a war or look down on people.
But some people really get on my nerves. They’re the sole reason I can’t dress myself well. They’re the reason I have to fit my lifestyle into acceptable clothing, even in summer weather.
Imagine wearing jeans, pajamas, long sleeves, a loose fit, and large clothes so I won’t get catcalled or teased about my own figure.
This gets more infuriating. Since I wear these types of clothes, I am often called a “fat, mean girl or that girl who judges people with her eyes. I mean, come on, give me a break.
If I wear body-fitting clothes, you’ll look at my bottoms. If I dress myself in loose-fitting garments, you’ll call me fat. What more do you want from me?
I can’t wear dresses, just for the sole reason of wanting to be pretty. You’ll label me a whore because it is too short on me. What will I do if I have a large body type? Are you stupid?
That’s why I have learned to be vocal when people pry at my business. Just because it does not look pleasing in their eyes does not mean I have to fit their expectations. I mean, you don’t pay my bills, but you want active involvement in my life.
My bitch face saved me from all of these two-faced people with nasty suggestions. Because when I look dominant based on their assumptions, they’ll stop suggesting advice that only makes them look good.
I want to be free with my own body. It is what my mother worked hard to give me. If my bitchy face is disrespectful to you, then we’re not close enough for me to change it. So, yeah, I’m bitchin’ you.
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