Day 9: Smile
I remember walking down Sunset Boulevard in Hollywood trying to do the challenge.
It was simple. A comfort zone challenge. A way to take baby steps out of my social anxiety. It shouldn’t be a big deal. All I had to do was look people in the eye as they walked past, and smile. That’s it.
Eye contact. Smile.
But holy shit it was hard.
Scratch that. Not hard — impossible. I literally couldn’t do it.
Every time a person walked past, I’d brace myself. In head I’d make calculation after calculation. When to look them in the eye, how long to hold eye contact, at what point after making eye contact should I smile, “Will they think I’m a psycho?”
And I probably wasn’t breathing.
It was excruciating. As soon as I’d see a person walking in my direction, my mind went into high gear. Sometimes they were an entire block away. But I saw them. I knew they were coming in my direction. So my mind started planning out the “interaction.”
Eye contact. Smile.
But when the hell do I make eye contact? Should I act surprised, like “Oh hey! Didn’t even notice you til just now.” Should I make eye contact from far away and hold it as we got closer and closer? No, that’s crazy. They’ll totally think I’m crazy. Normal people don’t do that. C’mon dude, it’s fucking simple!
Eye contact. Smile.
When we finally drew near — maybe a meter or two apart — I’d raise my head and look in their direction. If they weren’t looking back at me, my heart sank.
Instant fail. Why won’t people make eye contact with me? What’s wrong?
If they did catch my eye, it was time to smile.
Phew — you got this. You can do it. Just smile. All you gotta do is smile. It’s the easiest thing in the world.
Nope. Couldn’t do it. Something was wired backwards in my brain. I meant to smile. But instead, my face froze into a grim stare. Brows slightly furrowed. Jaw set, corners of mouth turned slightly down. The opposite of a smile.
What the hell is wrong with me? These people must think I’m so weird. I just know it. They’re thinking “What the fuck is up with this guy?” Is he going to rob us or something?
This was only the third challenge in the series. There were 17 more. The next one was to ask for directions. I never got to it. I could never get myself to smile.
I don’t know where I learned this. But I’ve noticed it ever since. I eat my smiles. If I’m ever walking down the street and a smile bubbles up to the surface, I clamp it down between my teeth and swallow it. I don’t let it get out.
In college, and for a few years after, I was in love with the Stoics. Their ideas suited me. I always fancied myself the “strong, silent type.” Ever since I was a kid.
The strong, silent type didn’t smile. So I learned not to either.
The strong, silent type was tough. They didn’t show what they were feeling. For all anyone knew, they didn’t have feelings. Knock them down and they’d get right back up without flinching. So I tried my hardest to do the same.
My mom used to ask me how my day was at school. She only ever got two answers: “good” or “fine.” My day was never “bad.” Because c’mon, the strong, silent type doesn’t complain.
Looking back, the reality was that I was shy and quiet and needed a way to make myself feel cool.
Being the “strong and silent type” became my mask.
Underneath, I didn’t feel strong. And I didn’t want to be silent.
Yet I wore the mask so long I forgot about my real face.
I didn’t know how to smile. I didn’t know how to laugh. And I sure as hell didn’t know how to cry.
All I knew was that I wanted to. And it hurt.