If I were to receive good fortune every time I had to reiterate that phrase, I could earn a living as a lucky charm.
I, along with thousands of other smile-challenged souls across the globe suffer from Chronic Bitchface. A setback that causes people to assume you are unexplainably irate or just simply hate them, for no apparent reason. All because a furrowed brow and upwardly troubled mouth corners seem to dominate your expression when your face is neutrally engaged.
Putting up with people asking if I’m “alright” or whether something is “wrong” since the tender age of 8 has finally pushed me to write this blog. Enough with defending my face. My natural resting expression isn’t a smile. Get over it. And you, Mr passer by on the street telling me to “smile” or “cheer up”. Why should I beckon to your demand of on-the-spot happiness? The disappointing reality of it is that my use of the masculine prefix is far too accurate. It’s time a woman’s expression was allowed to be free to represent bitch, joy, psycho, worry, excitement or fear. It’s their face. And so, with my little alcove of the online world, I hope to fight for CBF sufferers globally.
However content I am with it, my sour look has meant that over the years, I’ve needed an outlet that proves I’m not actually an understudy for an ugly sister in a Cinderella production. And thus forth, I have been using words to show that there’s a fun person beneath my surly external gaze, for ten chipper years.
In my spare time, I review events, things to do and restaurants as a Tastemaker for Time Out London. All of which you can peruse at your leisure under #CrackMyBitchface. Because believe it or not… This girl does smile. No, it doesn’t come naturally to my face. And at first, it did look forced. But after learning how to adult, I’ve aced how to show my appreciation of certain things – be it food, a place, an event or show. So if you think you can Crack My Bitchface, get in touch via email@example.com
I also co-run the Young Creative Council – helping grads and cool people crack the creative industries.
On this blog, I hope to build awareness of the dagger churning stares only CBF can answer for. The type that you get from a person you’ve not done anything to; but they make you feel like you’ve stood on their cat’s tail. You’ll learn, through me, how to deal with CBF in culture, history, the arts, travel and beauty – with opinions on just about everything.