The Biggest Lie I Tell People
In real life, anyway.
Ihave this thing I do. I do it constantly. It’s probably — no, definitely — not great. It’s my worst habit, and the most dishonest thing I do. And so I think it’s important to get out there, because maybe some of you do it, too? Anyway, here it is:
:-)
Seriously, that’s the lie. That’s the whole thing.
:-) is my default closing on a plurality of tweets and Medium comments. But it doesn’t stop there. I use it in Facebook messages. Twitter DMs. Instagram comments. Text messages. Work IMs. It’s omnipresent. It’s inescapable. It’s so ubiquitous that you’d swear it was meaningless — a verbal tic or a twitch. And it is a verbal tic, but it’s not meaningless. Not by a long shot.
:-) means many things. It means “please make sure you know the last thing I said was facetious.” It means “I disagree with you, but not enough to upset you.” It means “I’m sorry and I hope you accept my apology.”
:-) means “I hope I just made you happy.” It means “I hope you’ll accept me as part of your tribe.” It means “I’m seeking approval, agreement, or extending an olive branch.”
At its core … :-) kinda means “please like me.” And, lest you think this is some kind of online phenomenon, I’ve got some news for you: This is an extension of real life.
I smile when I’m nervous. I smile to sell a joke. I smile when I’m angry. I smile when I’m sad. I smile in meetings. I smile on dates. I smile when I’m flirting and I find out the interest isn’t reciprocated. I smile so much, some days my face literally hurts. I have smile wrinkles all over my face from 35 years of smiling. :-) is a pathology, one that stems deep from my childhood.
Iwas not allowed to be sad or upset as a child. I had a mom, who I love dearly, but who had a pathological aversion to her children not being happy, because she viewed sadness or even flat emotion — and still does, to this day — as one of many possible manifestations of ineffective parenting or her children not loving her enough.
:-) was something I did because if I was not smiling, my mom would ask what was wrong. Always. Multiple times per hour. And I’d say “nothing,” but she’d ask so many times that eventually I’d become upset and get the dreaded, “See, I told you something was wrong!”
:-) was something my parents also begged me to do in pictures. Every picture. I smiled big, wide and weird. It was forced … always. My natural smile looks nothing like my picture smile — though none of you would know, since you’ve probably never seen it. Often times, I’ll smirk or wink in person, in lieu of an authentic smile … Why?
In sixth grade, in my school picture, as a new kid in a new city, I smiled my usual picture smile. And I was mocked mercilessly for it.
I was called “Beaver” for my toothy grin. I was called a swath of homophobic slurs, because I guess (???) some people associate men’s excessive smiling with homosexuality. But I still smiled through it. Had to.
In 7th grade, I chose *not* to smile for my school picture, and I was scolded at home for it. It is, to date, the only picture I’m aware of in which I am not smiling. I actually try to avoid pictures altogether. (Look at my Instagram, it’s all pictures of other things.)
:-) was also a way of making sure the boys in school (who were all much taller, stronger, bigger and healthier than I) wouldn’t beat my ass the way they did other smaller, wispy boys in school.
:-) smoothed over things with bullies. So did not standing up for what I believed in. So did jokes. So did laughter. All the same pathology. And yet, it worked: I emerged from my youth unharmed, unscathed, with nary a scratch on my body. And now I have an irrepressible, effervescent charm to boot. (Sounds cocky, right? Facts are facts. I’m pretty well adored by just about everybody I meet.)
When I never smile, ever, is when I am alone. Smiling is something I do around people, as a magnet, as a social lubricant. And people notice: In 5th grade and 12th grade, I was voted “Most Happy.” I’m often compared to Mr. Peanut Butter from BoJack Horseman. I’ve been often called “the most positive person I’ve ever met.” Other common descriptors include: “warm,” “welcoming,” “kind,” “optimistic,” “friendly.” From my writing, I’ll bet you’ve gathered that this isn’t all that true — at least not all the time.
In fact, what :-) does not mean — what it has almost never meant, except in inescapable, undeniable moments of unchecked radiant bliss — is “I’m happy.”
I smile everywhere, still, to avoid people asking what’s wrong. And to keep people happy around me. And to smooth over disagreements. And largely because I don’t feel as though I’d be loved or wanted any other way.
It’s also why I play music. Why I very rarely discuss anything of substance IRL. (Ask anyone the last time they had a serious conversation with me. A gritty, emotional one where voices were raised and feelings were hurt.) Why I tell a preposterous amount of bad jokes in social situations. It’s all a performance, and a conflict avoidance strategy. It’s to connect with people and feel like I belong.
It’s also why you hear me use words like “awesome” and “incredible” and “amazing” and “excited” all the time. The happiness meter must always be a 13/10.
It’s a heavy burden, so to give my non- :-) a voice, I learned to write. I do it to take the mask off. I do it because it’s bottled up and needs to go someplace. And it’s helped me realize that it’s okay to be vulnerable or even to merely be ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.
There are benefits to men not smiling. Men who do not smile (often) are respected more, and looked at as more competent, tougher, more attractive, less naive, and more capable at work.
I imagine there’s a good deal of people who refuse to take me seriously, simply because I felt compelled to display unnatural happiness at all times to everyone. I wonder how many people assume because I don’t outwardly express my fears or displeasure that I’m afraid of nothing and okay with everything. I wonder even more if everyone can see right through it, and they’re all just humoring me.
I’m a human. I feel a wide range of emotions in between pathological happiness and crippling anxiety. 90% of the time, I’m squarely in the middle. Not smiling. But, really, nothing wrong. And I want people to know: Not smiling doesn’t mean I’m sad … it just means I’m not trying to sell you anything. It means I’m comfortable. It means I feel normal and at peace.
I would love to be able just be around people. To quietly exist in a shared space. To be able to end sentences with periods instead of exclamation points or smileys. To not feel like I’m selling the world’s happiest snake oil. I’ve gotten a lot better about this since I started writing things last year. I’ve become more comfortable wearing a neutral expression on my face.
What’s happened since? Irony of ironies — after tons of therapy and introspection — I’ve concluded smiling less helps me make more space for genuine joy. Real emotion requires a blank canvas from which to start: A face and a soul at rest and at ease.
If any of you out there — for whatever reason — feel like you smile too much, too, I want to let you know you don’t have to. It’s okay not to smile. It’s okay to be merely okay.
Anyway, thanks for reading. I hope you all are having a super awesome amazing day! :-)
I meant that last part … by the way.
