Let me take you back to a weird little memory that popped into my head the other day. I was at Disneyland—by myself. Which, first of all, brave, okay? I had an annual pass at the time, and the friend I usually went with couldn’t make it that day. But I still wanted to go. So I did. Alone. Just me, my thoughts, and the magic of overpriced snacks and long lines.
I started off at California Adventure, got myself two beers (because I’m a lightweight and two is my max), and let the buzz do its thing. Honestly? It was kind of perfect. The world softened, the music sounded better, and walking through the park felt less like being a solo weirdo and more like I was the star of my own indie film. Main character energy, okay?
Anyway, I’m tipsy, minding my business, thriving, and walking through the crowd with what I now realize must’ve been my signature RBF (resting bitch face, if you’re new here). And then he shows up.
Except it wasn’t even a show up moment—it was in passing. He was walking in the opposite direction, with his group, and as we crossed paths, he just threw it out there like a drive-by dose of unsolicited advice:
“Hey, smile! You’re at Disneyland.”
Clearly he was the self-appointed Mayor Of Disneyland Emotions.
He didn’t stop. I didn’t stop. He just lobbed it at me like he was doing the Lord’s work, and kept walking.
I remember feeling tipsy AF and blinking like, Sir… what?
And I don’t know if this is even a good idea to include (feel free to tell me), but what bugged me even more is how typical it felt. Of course it was a man. It always is. That same tired “smile, honey” energy.
It instantly reminded me of that scene in Captain Marvel—when she’s just standing there, looking at a map, and a guy on a motorcycle tells her to “give him a smile.” Like her face is supposed to be smiling for him. As if our expressions are public property.
It’s that same weird energy where some men act like women should be pretty and pleasant for them—even if we’re just existing in a public space, vibing, minding our business. It’s not just annoying, it’s exhausting.
And it’s wild how deep that entitlement runs sometimes. Like… sir, if you want a smile, look in the mirror and hype yourself up. Don’t put that emotional labor on strangers.
I swear these men think we’re just existing for the background aesthetics of their experience.
It’s not just annoying, it’s intrusive.
So yeah, it made me feel weird not because I wasn’t happy, but because I was having an amazing time. But that one little comment suddenly made me aware of myself in a way I hadn’t been.
And I’m pretty sure it sobered me up a bit, and like beers aren’t cheap at Disney. Jk, I was still tipsy after that. But that’s not the point I’m trying to make.
The point I’m making is that man’s dumb line made me feel like I wasn’t performing “enough” visible happiness to meet some unspoken Disneyland standard. And that’s the thing—I didn’t go to Disneyland to be anyone’s Happy Princess in the Park. I went to feel good. For me.
That moment pulled me out of my peace and made me self-conscious in a way that I didn’t ask for.
So let me say this loud and clear:
You do not owe the world your smile.
Not even at Disneyland.
And especially not to some crusty man who’s just passing by.
Sometimes joy is quiet.
Sometimes confidence looks calm.
Sometimes the happiest moments look like walking through a crowd, a little tipsy, thinking about how proud you are for doing something brave
…like going out alone and enjoying your own damn company without performing it for the crowd as you’re heading to your fav ride, obviously the CA Adventure Symphony Swings.
Oh wait, that’s just my fav ride.
*Cue in Paul from Shrinking saying “MY BAD”
RBF and all—I was living my best life.
Love, Loops