I admit it. I have a resting bitch face. Yes, I've been told I'm intimidating. And yes, I've heard "What's wrong?" when I'm randomly existing somewhere. I'm used to people misinterpreting my facial expression and moods.
As a hardcore introvert, I have a few reasons to prefer my own resting bitch face. There are some major upsides to walking around with a serious expression all the time.
It reduces unwanted attention at the bar.
OK, full disclaimer: it's been years since I was in a bar for any reason other than the 2-for-1 margarita special on Taco Tuesday. All it took to get the slightly greasy, leering guy on my left to go away was my own serious expression. The one that says, "You don't want to fuck with me" even though I was probably only making a mental grocery list at the time.
Sales people believe you when you say, "Just looking."
I'm from the Deep South where it's practically a sin to walk into any establishment -- grocery, department store, or Sephora -- and not hear, "Can I help you find anything?" I prefer to shop and look on my own. If I need you, I'll come ask (after spending 20 minutes trying to find it on my own, thank you very much). Resting bitch face to the rescue! I say, "Just looking" and they know to find someone else to "help."
No one questions whether you're serious when you speak.
As a hardcore introvert (no, really, I'd be a hermit if I could get food, Starbucks, and library books delivered -- at the same time), I don't speak up a lot in crowds of people, even if I've known them my whole life. I'm a one-on-one kind of girl. That fact combined with the expression on my face means no questions whether I'm serious. Sure, I might only be sharing my preference for pepperoni pizza over cheese pizza, but damn it, they know I mean business.
People get out of your way.
Stranger danger is a real thing, and my personal rule is three feet of personal space at all times. Walking through a crowded mall or Target is definitely no fun. My resting bitch face saves me again. I'm thinking about the coupons in my hand, but everyone else thinks I'm kind of mean. Personal space problem solved. The crowds part like the Red Sea.
What road rage?
OK, I admit to having a bit of road rage. Maybe more than a bit. I dropped much more than F-bombs when I was pregnant with my oldest because damn it, people need to learn to drive! I've calmed down in the past 10 years. The world hasn't. The last guy who tried to honk at me and cut me off in traffic slowed down the moment he saw my face. I swear I wasn't flipping him off or anything. I was wondering who was honking and why there was a maniac on the road. Apparently, my expression said something a bit different.
I'm not completely insensitive to appearances, and I know it's not good to walk into certain places looking like you're ready to rip someone a new asshole. Interviews and resting bitch faces don't mix well. After enough comments, I've learned to plaster a vacant smile on my face when I'm out in public -- at least until an errant thought catches my attention, and my brain starts spinning. At that point, all bets are off, and I probably look pissed. That being said, my resting bitch face comes in handy when I'm out in public. I wouldn't give it up for anything in the world.
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