Hello Victims,

First and foremost I would like to apologize for my very bitchy resting face. As much as I would love to naturally look happier, this is my face. I cannot help my naturally turned-down lips or my bored-looking eyes. I cannot help that my “thinking face” is a cross between the Grumpy Cat and the Grinch. I’m just made that way. I got it from my mama. Just kidding. My mom might have the happiest face ever, she just decided not to pass that gene to her youngest daughter. (Thanks.)

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As I walk from class to class and go about my day, I am planning the rest of my daily endeavors. This requires me to use my “thinking face,” thus scaring anyone who has the displeasure of making awkward/angry eye contact. I don’t naturally smile. This isn’t because I’m mad, upset, or have a problem with you; my face just simply rests into an expression that is a less-than-pleasant scowl. There have been countless times in which friends and classmates have approached me with concerned looks questioning me on my day in silent hope that I have a reason to look so angry, praying that their friend isn’t as naturally unapproachable as she looks.

I would like to make a special apology to any girl who’s outfit I may have liked. As I admire how cute your leggings are, or contemplate where your got your boots or sweater from, I probably made accidental eye contact. Only after you give me a glare and walk away do I realize you probably didn’t take my “resting bitch face stare” as me admiring your style or appreciating your clothing choice. You probably thought I was “challenging you,” as women shamefully do if they feel intimidated. I’m sorry, stranger, I just really liked your boots, and that sweater looked so comfy. Sorry I have a bitchy face.

Men don’t like the resting bitch face either. Nothing makes a boy want to approach you at a party less than a face that looks like you’re out for a kill. Many an evening has gone by where guy friends of mine has asked me if I was having fun, or if I was uncomfortable. “Nope! I’m having tons of fun,” I reply to them with a smile on my face. “You don’t look like it,” they tell me. Once again, I apologize for my bitchy face and spend the rest of the evening grinning so hard to make up for my previous party foul, that I have to ice my face when I return from the party.

Though having a resting bitch face makes for a killer poker face, I don’t play poker. So I’m perpetually doomed to a life of sore cheek muscles and wrinkled eyes as I try my very best to look more approachable, friendly, and less bitchy.

Once again, I’m sorry to all of my victims. You were all innocent, but I could not hold back the death-filled glare that struck you deep into your soul. I hope that one day you may catch me on the off day that I’m actually smiling as I walk from class to class, and perhaps your hope will be restored.

Sincerely,

Bitch Face