“I’m going to smile and make you think I’m happy, I’m going to laugh, so you don’t see me cry, I’m going to let you go in style, and even if it kills me—I’m going to smile.”
― Lonestar
We all encounter individuals who embody what it means to be “happy people.”
These remarkable individuals exude happiness, positivity, and an unwavering calmness in any setting. Whether in the workplace or a casual gathering, their resilience seems unshakeable.
They might be your close friends, friendly neighbors, familiar faces at your local coffee shop, colleagues at work, or even the parents of your children’s friends. Their presence has a unique way of uplifting those around them, making their happiness truly infectious.
While that may be true, I must be honest: these people sometimes drive me crazy. Why? Because I am their complete opposite and rarely exude happiness, positivity, or calmness with any regularity.
The “smile and make you think I’m happy” mentality doesn’t really work with me, as my face inevitably reveals my true feelings, even when I’m not fully aware of it.
At times, I find myself incredibly envious of those whose happiness seems to come easily, as if it were woven into the very fabric of their personality.
In contrast, I do struggle with mental health issues that can significantly affect my interactions.
On days when my mental health is stable and positive, I tend to be funny, talkative, and engaging, effortlessly connecting with those around me. I enjoy sharing stories and laughter, making the atmosphere lively.
However, on tougher days, when my mental health takes a downturn, I struggle with irritability and a self-defeating mindset, my frustrations easily spilling over, impacting my conversations and creating distance between those around me.
I recently found myself spending an extended and unexpected period of time with one of those “happy people.” I hoped that their consistently uplifting personality would bring a wealth of inspiring and positive insights to our conversation.
Given the stressful day I had at work, I was especially looking forward to this lighthearted interaction.
I anticipated that my contributions to the conversation would revolve around a series of complaints, ranging from the frustrations in my personal life to the challenges in my professional career, and extending to the political environment that now burdens us all.
I imagined myself launching into lengthy monologues, only pausing occasionally to sample the assortment of finger foods laid out on the table before us. (I’m the life of the party, right?)
But whatever my expectations for our interactions were, I quickly realized that what we perceive with our eyes often obscures the true nature of reality.
Suddenly, the vibrant colors and cheerful smiles around me began to feel like a carefully constructed facade, hinting at deeper complexities hidden beneath the surface.
Swedish-American actor Joel Kinnaman says, “We all can relate to people’s weaknesses. We might put up a facade that everything is perfect, but none of us is. When we see that weakness in somebody else, we understand or give ourselves a little bit of leeway.”
As the conversation continued, I was asked about my family, which is an unassuming question. I shared several personal stories about my struggles with family relationships, detailing specific instances that highlighted the complexities of those interactions.
It seemed that by opening up about my own vulnerabilities and emotional challenges, I created a sense of empathy and connection, allowing the person on the other side of the table to feel more comfortable sharing their own experiences, providing them with a sense of understanding and “a little bit of leeway”.
Before long, I discovered how the person sitting before me, who radiates happiness, positivity, and calmness with such consistency and sincerity, actually subscribed to the “smile and make you think I’m happy” mentality as I began to notice cracks in the facade.
For a moment, I found myself grappling with the unsettling realization that I had deceived myself into believing the images and scenarios around me were genuine and authentic.
Smile and make you think I’m happy
This led me to reflect on how often society deceives itself, feeling envious of lives that exist only in our minds, based on superficial perceptions. We allow what we see on social media and the material possessions that others flaunt to draw us into that facade.
We rarely take the time to stop and explore the nuances of reality versus perception, and as a result, we often succumb to a hollow envy of nothing more than an illusion.
As the person across from me opened up about the challenges in their personal life, I felt a deep sense of compassion for them.
It must be incredibly difficult and exhausting to maintain the facade of happiness, positivity, and calmness on the outside when all they really want to do is shut themselves away from the world.
But we can’t always do that, can we? We have lives and responsibilities that require us to be present, even when it’s the furthest thing from our minds.
I believe we all engage in this to some extent—hiding our struggles, fears, anxieties, and regrets behind a mask that is meant to convince others that we’re doing fine.
Unfortunately, this tactic often works.
For many of us, we aren’t particularly interested in the deep conversations and honest connections that arise when someone removes their mask and shows their vulnerabilities.
We are present for the enjoyable moments and the fun aspects of a relationship, but when emotions build up and can no longer be held back, the release can be overwhelming. Not everyone is comfortable or prepared to offer a listening ear and a supportive heart during those conversations.
After several hours of listening, sharing, and even crying, the time had come to go our separate ways, and I felt deflated and humbled.
Engaging in discussions about painful experiences is difficult, however, it reminded me how often I look at the people around me and convince myself that their bright smiles, effortless self-confidence, and easygoing demeanors truly represent their realities.
I’ve always envied their mental acuity and the graceful way they navigate the world with such precision. However, if I learned anything from that evening, it’s this: the “smile and make you think I’m happy” mentality is not sustainable.
It’s a mindset that can rob us of the ability to feel, both good and bad, and prevents us from experiencing life honestly and genuinely.
Yes, I tend not to hide how I’m feeling on tougher days, when my mental health takes a downturn, but at least I’m transparent, showing I need help rather than pretending I can navigate the uncertainty alone.
May is recognized as Mental Health Awareness Month, which aims to raise awareness and educate the public about mental health issues, reduce the stigma surrounding mental illness, and celebrate the importance of mental well-being.
I encourage you to take a closer look at the people around you, including those closest to you. Dig deeper and seek the truth that is often hidden beneath the surface.
Don’t assume that smiles and expressions of confidence accurately reflect what is happening inside. Ask questions, engage on a personal level, and remind others that it’s okay to feel, share, or cry if that’s what they need.
I conclude this post with something Courtney M. Privett wrote in her book Faelost.
“The two most common lies in our world are ‘I’m fine’ and ‘You’ll be okay’. They are said without harmful intent, and often said in an attempt to placate worries, but still they tell us it is not our place to make another person uncomfortable or to draw too much attention to ourselves. Over and over, we mindlessly repeat variations of the same two phrases as we hide within our lies and attempt to spare others from the miserable truth. I’m fine. I’m okay. You’re fine. You’ll be okay. Everything will be all right. We become our lies, but only on the surface. Underneath, we are not fine and they will not be okay. We all know this but we’re afraid to speak it.”