A friend of mine, a seasoned media trainer, once encouraged me to practice smiling. As a marketing consultant who frequently presents and speaks publicly, I had managed to overcome my initial fears, but recently, my anxiety seemed to creep back in. After our first coaching session, she bluntly said, “You need to smile more.”
Those words stung, echoing memories from my youth. Growing up in Los Angeles, I often felt more annoyed by street harassment urging me to smile than I did by overtly sexual remarks. The phrase “C’mon, give us a smile” felt like a personal attack, almost as if they were acknowledging my hidden sadness—something I thought I had concealed well behind my trendy outfit.
In my carefully curated ensemble of stylish jeans and a bohemian top, I believed I could project confidence. Yet, those comments shattered my illusion, revealing an uncomfortable truth that I was not, in fact, happy. The onlookers seemed to see through my facade, making me feel as if I were wearing a giant neon sign that screamed my insecurities.
My reasons for feeling this way were typical of adolescence. I didn’t have a father present, and I felt out of place with my red hair and fair skin amidst the sun-kissed, blonde beach crowd. While my friends flaunted their station wagons and sun-kissed skin, I grappled with my flaws. Back then, whenever someone said “Smile,” I interpreted it as, “There’s something wrong with you, and everyone can see it.”
Of course, this perception was mine alone. I was convinced that if I could just uncover and fix my flaws, I’d be able to smile effortlessly. It took years—college, moving to New York City, landing my dream job only to lose it, extensive therapy, and a tumultuous relationship that left me bruised yet somehow stronger—for me to start feeling comfortable in my own skin. By the time I was 27, I realized I no longer needed to hide. What I once perceived as a flaw, like my red hair, became my trademark. My sensitivity—once a source of pain—turned into a strength, allowing me to connect deeply with others, which has been invaluable in my career as a writer and communications strategist.
Yet, when my media trainer suggested I smile more, it forced me to confront those old insecurities. I wondered if, despite my growth and professional accomplishments, that uncertain girl still lurked beneath the surface. Did my friend want me to mask my true self with a smile, as so many had expected of me?
In reality, she encouraged me to embrace my authenticity. “You know your stuff. A smile makes you the driver of your message, inviting your audience in,” she explained. She referenced research showing that smiling elevates mood. “Smiling will help you relax. Practice it until it feels natural, even when you’re tired.”
I’m still learning to make smiling a habitual response, but I’ve noticed that lifting the corners of my mouth instantly eases my tension. It’s fascinating how smiling can elevate my mood—like the classic chicken-or-the-egg question. Just as Tara Brach incorporates smiling into her guided meditations, reminding us to “make room for what’s here,” I’m finding my own space to smile, both inside and out.
Now, when I speak to an audience, that genuine smile transforms everything. I forget about the performance aspect and simply share my knowledge. And as I stroll down the street, I embrace my stride and confidence, no longer needing to check my reflection for validation.
Just the other day, while heading to a meeting in New York City, I spotted a young man approaching. “Hey, gorgeous,” he called out, his eyes widening as I walked by, a subtle smile gracing my lips. After 40 years, I’ve realized that I’m not invisible, as society sometimes suggests women my age should be. That smile, though, was for me—an affirmation of my journey.
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In summary, embracing a smile is more than just a physical act; it’s a pathway to self-acceptance and confidence. It invites warmth into our interactions and transforms how we present ourselves to the world.
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