A Lesson in Self-Awareness... and some other stuff

Whenever I make eye contact with someone on the street/hall/whatever, I always make a point to smile. Not like a big toothy grin or anything, more like one of those slight, closed mouth, minimal effort smiles. You know, the "stranger smile." This particular point has been a source of some stress and annoyance because I rarely get a smile back. More often than not, my little gesture of camaraderie is met with a hurried glance to the ground. I've attributed this discrepancy to my Idahoan upbringing starkly contrasting the guarded streets of the big cities that have been my home these last few years. Recently however, my sister snapped this little jewel, and I was faced with a startling reality...

Turns out my "stranger smile" looks like this:

Meet Chester McPervy. It's sobering to discover that my making a conscience effort to smile at strangers (something I've secretly always congratulated myself for) was in reality, only seriously creeping them out.

Sam had a "self-awareness" moment like this a few months ago when I happened upon him peeing himself with laughter on the couch... no doubt thinking back on something hilarious and brilliant I had done that day. I just so happened to have my camera in hand and immediately began snapping pictures. He suffered through a small identity crisis and a brief stint in therapy after seeing these...

Of course I think these pictures are completely adorable and am over the moon when Sam laughs... especially if I'm the one making him do so. BUT, have you ever caught an unintentional glimpse in the mirror, or had a picture taken of you mid belly-laugh? It's never anything like you imagined you would look... and it's usually quite terrifying.

I remember when I was in 3rd grade and a group of my friends were swimming at the Aquatic Center, an indoor swimming pool in Idaho Falls. There was one boy I loathed more than anything named Brad Vuccovich. I write his name unabashedly because he knew very well that I hated him. Anyway, after various attempts to dunk him under the water (I was a brute of a 3rd grader and he was a complete pip squeak of a 4th grader and when you're in elementary school it's still okay to practice violent dominion over those smaller than you) we actually started having a real conversation. For some reason, I was explaining to him and showing him all of the different kinds of "smiles" I had in my repertoire. I remember one was "flirty" and one was "cheesy." I don't remember the others. I had never practiced these smiles in the mirror, or differentiated my different kinds of smiles before, but it seemed super interesting at the time and I was sure the feelings I was having on the inside were showing through perfectly on my face.

After our conversation, my feelings of hatred towards Brad had, of course, transformed into feelings of true love. When I got home I was anxious to get to a mirror to check out the different smiles I had showed him... just to make sure I had indeed been as sexy and charming as I thought. I can still picture exactly the ridiculous, chestery, creepy little girl that looked back at me from the mirror when I reenacted my "flirty" smile... hair still slicked straight back from swimming (not a good look for me) with the little bit of my mom's make up I had secretly applied that morning, forming dark smudges beneath my eyes. Come to think of it, it was pretty much the 3rd grade version of my "stranger smile." It was hideous. I had made a complete fool of myself. And making a fool of yourself while trying to be flirty (seductive) is ten times more foolio than any other kind of fool you can make. If that makes sense. At that moment the only obvious choice I had was to start hating Brad again.

I realize this post has gotten off topic... hence the addition of "and some other stuff" to the title. Here's where I attempt to tie it all in. Ahem.

I can't even count the number of experiences I've had like the one I had with Brad, or the discovery of the "stranger smile." Not over the top humiliation (those I'll save for another post) but just times where I was completely lacking in self-awareness. I wish that I could go back and talk to my teenage, or pubescent, or pre-pubescent self and tell me not to worry, and that I wouldn't even remember the times I made a spectacle of myself... and to take comfort in knowing that the adult version of me is super confident and graceful and pretty much awesome in general. But I can't. Because the truth is, I still get a wave of embarrassment down the back of my neck when I think back on my "flirty" smile from 3rd grade. And I still make a big fat fool of myself on the regular.