"Wipe that face off your head, b*tch"
"Wipe that face off your head, b*tch"
Exploring feminism and Resting Bitch Face (RBF) + altering our mood by changing our facial expressions
I was only 2 centimeters dilated.
“Let’s have you walk around for an hour and see if you progress to 4 centimeters,” the nurse said.
My crotch had a goal. If I expand to the diameter of a golf ball, I will be admitted and go on my merry way to have this baby.
To get through each contraction, I focused on the roughly 20 steps to waddle back and forth across the room.
By the end of the hour, I progressed quickly and rapidly. While the skin around my belly felt like it squeezed rock hard, I simultaneously felt like I had to poop. I screamed and grunted. This was my husband’s cue to remove our 3-year-old from the room to push cake pops in her face at the first floor Starbucks waiting area, reassuring her mama is A-OK.
Meanwhile, back in the hospital room, the nurse came back to check my cervix.
7 centimeters.
Another contraction hit. I squinted my face. Moaned and groaned. I pursed my lips. Squeezed my eyes shut. I displayed all my teeth and breathed shallowly through the little gaps in my mouth, saliva bubbling out the corners.
The nurse said, “You know, hon, if you relax your face, it won’t hurt as much.”
I wanted to punch this woman. But I continued on, doing the same scrunched face and kept my distance.
Contraction after contraction, I stuck by my face and nothing I did helped me feel better. Finally, I decided to try out the nurse’s advice.
Before I tell you what happened, let’s explore the many facets of our facial expressions and the idea of changing your face to change your mood.
Over the weekend, my brother-in-law explained to my husband about altering your facial expression when you want to change your mood, a tactic he learned in his meditation practice. When you’re in a mood, work to relax the face starting with the forehead, then eyebrows, eyes, and cheeks, letting all the expression go away. Theoretically, it can melt the mood away and calm you down quicker.
Meanwhile, I was trying to nap away a grumpy mood. Was I unable to nap because I was wearing a bitter face?
Then I started to think about how we feel when someone else tells you to turn that frown upside down. I don’t know about you but, typically, if someone tells me to smile when I do not appear to have a warm facial expression, I’m thrown off, confused, or offended.
When a comedy group released the video of “Bitchy Resting Face” in 2013, I remember identifying with this term, now commonly known as RBF. It’s what I had been accused of when I’m not actively trying to look pleasant. My face appears unapproachable, “bitchy” or mad, when I am simply thinking or daydreaming.
Growing up, my dad barked at me and my sisters, as if wearing our normal face wasn’t good enough. He would say, “Smile! You look ugly like that.”
As I thought of what my dad used to say to us, somehow my mind went to this quintessential line ad libbed by actress Parker Posey in the movie Dazed and Confused.
During an absurd hazing scene, she says, “Wipe that face off your head, bitch.”
I think we can all agree: RBF is a sexist term. Bitch is in the name. Only women are called bitches. How often do men get called out for their faces making others feel uncomfortable?
In a 2016 study, two behavioral researchers sought to determine if some people (women) have RBF and others do not (men). It turns out, based on a face-reading technology immune to gender bias, the belief women have RBF more than men, is a figment of our societal norm imaginations.
It detected RBF equally in male and female faces.
One of the researchers, Abbe Macbeth was quoted in a Washington Post article, “RBF isn’t necessarily something that occurs more in women, but we’re more attuned to notice it in women because women have more pressure on them to be happy and smiley and to get along with others.”
So there we have it — evidence that we’re all being sexist. For a long time, I leaned into my feminism, empowered by not putting on a smile when I simply did not feel like it. I wouldn’t give two shits if you didn’t like my RBF. I do not owe the world a pleasant face.
Yet, I’m not proud to admit, I’ve caught myself telling my daughter to smile. I’ve also noticed I do not give my son the same commentary when he has similar facial expressions. I learned it as a kid, now I’m working on changing it as I raise my kids.
Being told how to move your face muscles is off-putting, to say the least.
But what are the possibilities when we voluntarily change our facial expression, rather than when someone else tells us to?
But is a little nudge by someone else so bad, if done tastefully or in certain contexts? For example, a suggestion to smile from your instructor during a hard set in a workout class.
Even with these exceptions, it’s no doubt our society still feels it needs to fix women’s faces to make themselves feel more comfortable.
But what if you alter your facial expression for yourself?
Does that change the context? What is the feminist point of view on making her face a certain way if it serves herself? A feminist has nothing to prove to the world. A feminist has everything to prove to herself.
Forget what the world thinks of our face. When we make ourselves aware of our facial expressions, can we shift the muscles in our face to shift how we feel?
If you stuck around to find out if the nurse’s advice worked, the answer is yes, and no.
Relaxing the muscles in my face, which were previously scrunched up like a puckered up butthole, helped with the pain. That nurse was right. It did make me feel slightly better. And slightly better when you’re in that much pain is a win.
But I still opted for an epidural, relaxed my face, and took a nap before I pushed.
While I enjoy Substack Reads, a collection of “the best stories, ideas, and culture right at your fingertips,” it often only features writers with subscribers or followers in the thousands. Here’s my version of Substack Reads, for the rising star writers. They say earning your first 1,000 subscribers is tough and I want to support fellow writers who create good work with smaller and mighty audiences.
Read, share and subscribe to their work if it speaks to you!
makes motherhood funny. She published her new advice series with a very relatable issue — what to do when you like the parents but their kids are dickheads. The d-word was her word though, not mine! Read on for the comical advice.wrote with vulnerability this week and I am here for it, especially the honesty of being a working mom. As a creative, I can relate to what she says about finding her voice. wrote about something my husband does and now I think I need to do it and see what comes up! “Once I began to understand this dream language of spirit, a whole new world opened up to me. I made a practice of asking for guidance on a particular issue before going to bed and, without fail, the answer would come that night in a dream. (Seriously, give this a try, it’s amazing!)” wrote a beautiful piece for her Insider series, featuring . I love pieces like this, where we get to know other creatives more in-depth.
Love this idea, Stephanie! A while ago, I began actively seeking out smaller, less known Substacks to subscribe to, as I find the same ones often cropping up in those lists. It feels like an act of rebellion to ignore the noise :)
My ex husband used to tell me “Relax, you’ll live longer.” Are used to think and sometimes say if you say that to me again, you won’t. There’s just something about others, telling us how to feel like you say how to hold our faces just doesn’t sit well.
You are not alone and feeling that way