A few years ago, I got feedback in a performance review that stuck with me. It wasn’t about the quality of my work nor about whether I met my targets. But about… my face.
“You have a resting bitch face,” someone joked. Another time, I was labeled an “introvert” as though that explained away my style of leadership, collaboration or even ambition.
It made me pause: when did “smile more” or “be more positive” become part of the job description?
The problem with performative positivity
Have you ever had a “cheerleader” boss? The kind who insists on relentless optimism even when goals are clearly unachievable. Phrases like “Failure is not an option!” are not just clichés – they often become cover for poor leadership.
This is what performative positivity looks like:
- Pretending everything is fine when it isn’t.
- Measuring people on how cheerful they appear, instead of on their actual contributions.
- Penalising those who show up authentically whether that means being direct, pragmatic or even quiet.
The consequences are especially sharp for women. Research shows 98% of women have been told to smile more during their careers, with 15% hearing it weekly. Smiling, it turns out, is often treated like a hidden performance metric.
When the smile becomes a signal
If you feel pressure to perform cheer – instead of being valued for your skills, insights, or results – it may be a sign the workplace culture doesn’t fit you.
Reinvention often begins with these subtle signals:
- You feel like you’re acting instead of contributing
- Feedback is about your personality, not your performance
- You leave meetings drained, not because of workload, but because of how you’re expected to “show up”
The signal I chose to pay attention to
For me, being told to “smile more” or having my so-called resting bitch face brought up in reviews was a turning point. At first, I brushed it off as a small annoyance, but eventually I realised it was a signal worth taking seriously.
If a workplace values performative positivity more than authentic contribution, then no matter how hard you work, you’ll always feel like you’re performing instead of belonging. That realisation nudged me to reflect: did I want to keep adjusting myself to fit the system, or could I find spaces where my presence – quiet, direct, introverted – could be a strength?
Sometimes, it begins with paying attention to the smallest signals and letting them guide you towards spaces where you can truly shine.
If this resonates with you, I share more reflections and practical tips on Instagram. Come join the conversation because you’re not alone in navigating these moments.
Photo: Iris Colomb: Try! Try! Try! Again! exhibition at the National Poetry Library