My husband is always asking me if I am okay because I have resting bitch face. I get it. I don’t know a single person that doesn’t have it. I sometimes think if my husband saw his resting bitch face, he’d stop asking me if I was mad or upset just because I don’t have an expression on my face.
Over the course of the week or so he has been home recovering from surgery, I have asked him if he is okay or needs anything on multiple occasions. He doesn’t get that not only does he have a resting bitch face, but with the pain of recovery, his resting bitch face has gone up a notch or two in severity.
Resting bitch face is the result of not having thoughts or not feeling anything at that moment. Even the happiest people I know have one. It’s not the sociopathic, psychopathic not feeling anything, it’s simply a matter of being in one’s own head. Everyone has it.
Next time you are in a traffic jam look around at your fellow traffic jammers. The majority of them will look pissed off. Some of them will be visibly annoyed by the traffic jam, but others are just thinking because they aren’t doing anything else. I’ve also noticed it on highways. As I pass people or get passed by people, the majority of the driver’s have resting bitch face as do their passengers.
Contrary to popular opinion, including my own, unless there is a large group of people in a car, people in cars do not yammer away, especially if it’s a long car ride. I think spouses are especially sensitive to resting bitch face. No, let me rephrase. I think husband’s are especially sensitive to resting bitch face. I don’t believe people go through drastic personality shifts just because they get married, but I think men more than women, constantly think their spouse is upset with them. I’m not sure why this should be, but I think it is the case.
My husband is convinced that if I was in the car with say my best friend as opposed to him, it would be nonstop talking. Reality is much different. I have been on several long car rides with my best friend and the car tends to be quiet. Quiet enough that we have listened to a few audiobooks on car trips, like Withering Heights. Her and I talk about where we are going, what we are doing when we get there, what’s going on in our lives at the moment, and then we lapse into silence. It might fill an hour of a six hour car ride, meaning the majority of our car ride is silent.
The other thing my husband doesn’t understand is that as I have aged, I hate to compete with a radio or TV to talk. He turns the radio on the moment we start driving and since I refuse to try and talk over it, I just don’t talk. I have told him I hate to talk over the radio, but he says he hates to drive in silence… which leaves us in a stalemate during car rides.
And while I do love music, it isn’t something I want to listen to all the time. As a matter of fact, prolonged radio exposure annoys me. You hear the same commercials over and over, sometimes the same songs over and over, and eventually it just all runs together as one great big sound wave constantly beating on the ear drums. I’m sure that makes my resting bitch face worse.