“Hey, why do you hate Brittany?”

“What do you mean?” I gazed up at my friend incredulously. The last I’d checked, Brittany and I were on good terms.

“She told me you gave her a death glare when she tried to smile at you last week”

I felt my brows furrow in confusion. I couldn’t remember seeing Brittany over the past week, much less giving her a dirty look. Still this conversation was hardly out of the ordinary. Since starting college, friends and acquaintances alike have inquired whether I’m angry with them.

Hello, my name is Kalynn and I suffer from RBF.

RBF, or Resting Bitch Face, as it’s known colloquially, refers to a phenomenon where women may look angry or mean without intending to. Anyone who possesses attributes of RBF can acknowledge what a pain it can be. People are constantly surprised by how nice I am once they get to know me, after assuming that I’m perpetually fuming.

The development of my RBF likely dates back to my childhood. Growing up, my father lived in a questionable part of Denver. Although the house we lived in was nestled in a beautiful lake community, the surrounding area could be sordid. Each time we ventured to buy groceries, chase down an ice cream man or biked to the nearest thrift store, I found myself propositioned by catcallers and beggars. There was always a chance of being mugged if you were not aware of your surroundings. As a result, I became accustomed to carrying myself in a way that marked I was not someone to be trifled with. Eventually, this stance became my default body language. This skill has proved immensely beneficial in the time following my adolescence, allowing me to acclimate quickly to urban environments. I have spent several summers living in various neighborhoods in New York, most recently residing in Harlem. My RBF has kept me protected and comfortable throughout each of these adventures. It also helps to keep catcallers at bay, which is always a positive.

Nevertheless, my facial features have become a major point of contention after starting college. Since relocating to Missouri, I have never been more aware of the impact of my facial expression. People from the Midwest are notorious for their constant friendliness and sunny outlooks. In this environment, RBF makes you look like Wednesday Adams in a world of Kimmy Schmidts. I became familiar with questions about my mood, based on the sense that I was snarky, angry or otherwise unhappy. Yet, the constant slew of questions about my disposition were nothing in comparison to the assumptions that I was miserable, irritated or conceited. Much to my chagrin, strangers are often surprised that I am as happy, fun-loving or kind as anyone, after actually getting to know me.

F. Scott Fitzgerald famously wrote, "Whenever you feel like criticizing anyone…just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had.” This advice holds particularly true when judging someone with RBF. Although a sunny disposition is all but normal throughout the Midwest, there are many parts of the United States, and regions of the globe, where smiling is not common. Not everyone is prone to beaming exuberantly at each given moment. We must reserve judgement and accept that facial features and can vary dramatically across cultures, based on customs and norms, and instead promote a sense of tolerance for all people, regardless of their expression, rather than simply assuming the worst.

The next time you see me walking across campus, with a dour expression, ask me if I’m angry at you. Nine times out of ten, it’s just the RBF.