wellownedbkup

Smile

Of all the things I like or don't like about myself (I'm a woman, so I'm slightly entitled to disliking more about myself than is necessarily dislikable...), I'm the most ambivalent about my smile. Yearbook pictures are like a string of bad DMV visits. Somehow they always scheduled those photos at the worst time of day: lunchtime. My hair would've flattened and gotten fuzzy from the up-and-down of traveling three flights of stairs for class and lunch. And anxiety would've led to a near sleepless night the night before. Add to that the worst genetic trait to be passed down from my paternal side: lazy eye. It was a recipe for disaster every time. Suddenly, all the yearbooks or the picture orders would come home and I would look OLD: bags under my eyes, only focusing on the camera with one eye and a lopsided, tired half-smile, one that begged to be let return to a boring day of school so that I could go nap or something.

Worst. Ever.

I have to admit, I did have two or three good pictures when I was in school. But they were the few times I did not smile or even make the attempt. (That is, except for one picture in 1st grade... but since I was tiny and overeager, I'm not too worried about it.) Take, for instance, my senior portraits at Glamour Shots. I know, I know. Automatically, each picture is airbrushed for quality and the soft, romantic look. I know. But. Honestly. I was wrapped in a lovely red boa and staring down into a light. 3/4 profile shot, no smile to be had. I looked beautiful. It was the first time I ever thought I had potential to be pretty. You only saw my lazy eye maybe twice in all the proofs, which is a major win in my book.

But. I mean. I have smiled in pictures before. And not all of them are terrible. I've got some of the most perfect teeth I've seen outside of folks having braces (not bragging, it's fact). My entire top row of teeth are even and straight and just... perfectly aligned in that "Wow, you must've paid a pretty penny for that smile" kind of way. You'd think that kind of thing would make me smile more on the whole.

I just. I don't know.

My boss tells me that she worried about me in my job for a while when she first came on as manager. I deal with students, staff and faculty at my University with any minor technical problems they have with their laptops or the computer lab I manage. And my blank face? Very angry and closed off. If it wasn't for my impeccable service when asked a question, the way I make sure the problem is completely solved before I wish the customer a good day... I wouldn't have become the student manager. I was told that I should smile more, in order to not seem so unapproachable. It's nothing I'm doing on purpose. I just don't find all that much to smile about on a regular basis.

Which brings us to the crux of the matter, I guess. I feel like an idiot sitting around with a smile on my face all the time. What's so cheery in the world? There's far more to think about, to be concerned over, to feel distress about. I'd look silly if I always had a smile.

Which is a shame. My smile's not bad, not all the time.

kendra, me and candy