Why do you smile so much?

"Why do you smile so much, even when you shouldn't?"
Though she was referring to my use of emoticons, she is in no way the first or the only to call me out for excessive smileage. People get uncomfortable. Many of my close friends told me that before we became friends, they just knew me as the really smiley girl. I guess that's not a bad thing, but far too many people seem to equate smiles with naivete.

But it's like the line in the poem "The Invitation," by Oriah Mountain Dreamer: "I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain." How you deal with sorrow, grief, and traumatic events speaks volumes about who you are in your life. My girl told me she laughs her way through hard things. I personally shut down and hibernate while I process, or if I am unable to steal away, I force those with me to process alongside me. But when my former student said that I smile when I shouldn't, I got to thinking: maybe my smiles are offensive to others. Maybe they make me seem frivolous and unserious. As much as I like to think that is the baggage and issues of the people offended, I can not escape the fact that we are participating in this interaction called life together.

I won't stop the smiles, especially because psychology knows that a smile can impact your mood in a positive way, takes less muscles than a frown, and helps me win the battle between negative and positive in my head. But it's not quite so simple. Too many times in my life when my face has been resting in a non-smile, men have ordered a smile. Too many, "Smile, baby. You're too young/pretty to be frowning." Which is incredibly offensive, invasive, and--as much as I hate to admit it--effective. Though my facial expression can not be craved and requested like an item on a fast-food menu, clearly these comments have stuck with me, ruminating and building new ideas, thoughts, and emotions. My smiles are not to be produced on command, and at the same time, the command then begs the questions of who they're for and who they touch.

This is no longer verbal, but facial intentionality. Because the truth of the matter is that the smile is not just for myself. Even I can not control my smiles most of the time, and am proud to discover that my resting face is a smile. Dig a little deeper, though, and I can not deny that I put it on and take it for walks for you, too.