It's Not All About Me

I picked up a free ebook on Amazon the other day. It is titled, "It's Not All About Me - The top ten techniques for Building Quick Rapport with Anyone", by Robin Dreeke. I thought it looked like an interesting read. I'm all about self improvement and can be fairly neurotic. I thought I could probably glean a few things that would at the very least help me at work. Robin Dreeke is the head of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Program within the Counterintelligence Division. I thought, I bet this guy is pretty smart. He is!

I read the first two chapters with interest yesterday at lunch. His first piece of advice is to smile. In fact, the whole first chapter is about how disarming a smile can be and how to engage people simply by showing happiness. For some of us this is difficult and takes a little practice. For instance, have you ever seen a person who looks as if they have never smiled a day in their life?

Their face seems to be stuck in a permanent state of misery. I always wonder what that person would look like if they were happier.

To smile seems fairly intuitive in the building of relationships. All that is required is to maneuver a few facial muscles and viola! Win friends and influence people. Except that it's not always that easy. At least not for me.

I have mentioned before that I'm a little like Eyeore. I can be a gloomy Gus. Pouting's my name and frowning's my game. Okay. Enough word games. You get the picture. I have a terrible habit of walking around wearing my emotions on my face. A common reaction to this look of doom is, "Margaret, are you okay?" to which I respond, "No." To which they say, "What's wrong with you?" To which I reply, "The sky is falling." It's really rather pathetic. But I'm very good at self pity. One could say I've earned my gold star in self pity.

A few years ago someone pulled me aside and said, "Margaret, I know you have a hard life, but you have to be more positive at work. Everyone thinks you're grumpy. Even if you don't feel like it, you need to smile more." I walked away and cried for a week. Then I began to learn the art of painting on a fake smile. When anyone would ask how I was I would say, "Fine." Just like a normal person. For a long time it felt really unnatural but eventually I got used to it. And truth be told, I'm glad that person told me to cheer up. They said a hard truth that made me reevaluate my facial expressions. And that is powerful.

As I read Robin's book the true power behind a smile dawned on me. Even though I generally am very good at my fake smile now, I have learned how to genuinely smile and put the real emotion behind it, even if I feel like garbage inside.

Today started out really rough. I dragged my tired body out of bed, depressed and sick at heart. I had a familiar feeling of gloomy Gus syndrome and longed to stay at home in bed. But I couldn't. I have to go to work whether I feel like it or not. But I cannot stress enough how very much I did not want to and how difficult it was to make myself do it.

Once I walked in the door to work I adjusted my facial muscles and forced myself to look carefree. Within minutes I was engaged in a conversation with a woman I don't know very well. I complimented her hair and told her "I like your personal style." After she gushed about her hair dresser for a few minutes she stopped and said, "You know Margaret, you are always so cheerful." I smiled and thought, "If only you knew."

But I walked away from the conversation with a glimmer of hope in my heart. If making myself smile and pretend to be happy makes other people happy which in turn makes me happy, why did I ever expend so much energy moping about?

And that, my friends, is why we should all smile as much as we can when we are sad and having a hard time. A smile is like a boomerang. When you throw it at someone, it comes right back at you. Which does kind of make it all about me, but not really.