From the Archives: Smile for Me :)
From August 2021
Hi hi hi!! I am working on so many new things that aren’t ready but for now! a comic! from a few years ago!!!
It has taken me centuries to figure out how to smile correctly. Well, correct for me at least, my parents and I probably still differ on this. Everyone has the way the want to look in pictures and then there’s reality. Reality being, all of the photos of me on Facebook from 2008-2013. They’re horrifying, but I also don’t have the energy to go untag myself from every party in college I attended.
I began thinking a little more about smiling two weeks ago when this happened in Gowanus:
I was so flippin’ mad at my initial reaction to, in fact, smile for him. But its so natural! Someone starts talking to me, I perk up! I’m excited! I smile before I even realize what’s being said! Shockingly, years of living in New York has not beaten this out of me. This is not the first time this has happened to me or any woman in America (duh). One time an old man in Prospect Park told me to smile while I was jogging. Who, may I ask, smiles while running? But did I flash him a smile? OF COURSE I DID. I’M A PEOPLE PLEASER!
And I kick myself every time, right after it happens. Why didn’t I scour? Why didn’t I say back, “You smile, bitch!” and then cackle like Ursula? It’s not that I want to become a hardened woman who can’t handle a compliment, but I don’t want to give in to their demands! Sure, sure sure, men want us to smile. So what’s the big deal? Is it so much to ask for?
Honestly, yes it is. Cuz I actually have a great smile and I don’t think they deserve it with such little effort. They should have to work harder for the sheer gratification of being on the receiving end of one of my devastatingly charming smiles.
I like to think of the guy who told me to smile, reading this, and winding up in years of therapy…
And now that I’m thinking about all this forced smiling, I’m realizing my dog Margie might have a few thoughts of her own on the subject…
Anyway, back to humans. All of this has reminded me of earlier childhood memories, before I ever learned how to smile so perfectly. Every Christmas photo from ages 4 to 22 resulted in this conversation with my father:
Maybe you were the same?
Don’t get me wrong here. I’m not complaining about my father. He’s a) a great guy and b) very very right. I truly didn’t know how to smile without looking like I was being held captive or constipated.
I for one am relieved my father didn’t let me get away with all the fake smiling of my childhood. It could’ve ended really tragically, no?
So, after years of practicing in the mirror and thinking about how wide to open my mouth (insert sex joke here) without opening too wide and lifting my eyebrows just enough so I don’t look sleep deprived but I also don’t look like I’m on coke, I have settled on the final option #6 above, the “Until Death” look. Though “21” comes out to play anytime I’ve had over three cocktails at Skinny Dennis and an Alan Jackson song comes on.
Now if he ever asked me to smile, you better believe I would accidentally do it without even hearing him.
Thank you for reading! New posts every Friday!
ICYMI: I’ll be performing in Stroudsburg, PA on May 19th with
!On repeat: Relationships by HAIM
Currently reading: Briana Loewinshon’s Raised by Ghosts
Thinking about: a funny sign I saw in bk from a guy who said you could hire him to organize your apartment
Just watched: Mickey 17!
Your cartoon "Smile for Me" is both humorous and insightful, capturing the essence of everyday interactions with wit. It's a delightful reminder of the simple joys in life. Keep sharing your unique perspective!
Oh I absolutely tended to smile when someone yelled it at me because it was like a jump-scare. I think of that video of a dog grinning that everyone shared, going Awwww he loves his people, when an expert would come into the comments and say, “Actually that’s a stress response. That is a very scared dog.”
One thing I loved about NYC though, was even though men got me to scared-smile a few times, if I caught one giving me the old up and down, I could tell him, “f*ck off you pig” and no one around me would even bat an eyelash. Ah, I miss it.