The rictus grin

Learning the side step and mastering the rictus grin were necessary parts of growing up a "lady" in mid twentieth century America.

This time honored dance and that particular smile separate me from those people who find making a scene a way of life, or who, perhaps, just need to be the center of attention at any cost.

I was taught, not very gently, not to draw attention to myself.

The idea that negative attention was better than none was quickly erased from both my actions and my thoughts in a world that preceded today's in your face attitudes.  In my world that kind of attention was painful beyond belief.

My feelings are mine and fine, but expressing them is relegated to a strict code of propriety that becomes a shield in spite of its seeming repression.  It limits panic until I have had time to think of a proper way to respond.  For example:  should someone rush into my bedroom and pounce wildly onto the person I am sleeping with . . . I would simply find a way to slip away as soon as possible.  Once removed there would be plenty of time to decide what to do.

Sidestep, smile, a time honored way of dealing with awkward situations, but something that has also made me a connoisseur of smiles.  The Cheshire cat terrifies me.