JEREMY CORBETT
JEREMY DISCOVERS THAT LOOKING ANXIOUS HAS ITS ADVANTAGES
Many of you will be familiar with RBF or Resting B**** Face (rhymes with witch).
It’s an unfortunate affliction for which the main symptom is the sufferer’s face looks wretched when at rest.
Though they may be sweet, caring and empathetic, once their head muscles relax and facial features return to their default position, the overall impression is that they enjoy pulling the wings off flies and stealing from children.
This leads to much frustration in their lives as they are constantly asked if they are okay or why they are so angry.
Never ask these people to smile. In fact, unless you are a photographer in the process of taking a photo, never ask anyone to smile. It’s patronising.
On the other hand, if you are a person who is at the receiving end of the instruction to smile, do what I do:
Recently a co-worker looked at me with that condescending “you need cheering up” look and said, “You know it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile.” I replied, “Yes, but I’m trying to lose weight.”
Ironically, being constantly told to smile makes otherwise calm sufferers of RBF agitated. Before long they are genuinely angry and this is reflected in their face, which is no longer a Resting B Face, but an Active B Face.
Thankfully, I do not suffer from RBF. What I do suffer from is resting anxious face. When I am carefree and have no need of brain activity, my brow furrows, mouth turns down and I stare into the distance as if I am wrestling with a life-threatening situation.
In intermediate school, I remember a teacher asking me what I was concerned about. In truth, my mind was as blank as a boy’s could be, so I told her, “Nothing.” This was the wrong answer. Teachers have a deep need to be listened to and tend to lash out when they are not. It’s no accident that attention rhymes with detention.
It still happens. Twice in the last week I have been asked what is wrong. The first was at work. As I entered the room, a colleague shrieked, “Oh my
God, are you okay?”
The panic in her voice infected me so much
I yelled back, “Why?
What’s happened?”
Though we quickly established my visage had been to blame, both our heart rates were up and our fight-orflight responses enabled.
My resting anxious face does have its advantages. In the second instance Megan and I were driving the kids to school and I was off in la la land.
Then through the mist of nothingness came her voice, “Are you worried about it that much?” I wasn’t. I had no idea what the topic of conversation was. I hadn’t been listening to “it” at all, but thankfully my resting anxious face had given the impression I was.
“Of course,” was my reply. It seemed to do the trick.