Can you tell “a smile from a veil?”
A selfie, squinting.
On the “Try This” page on July 6, 2026, I suggested grabbing a random sentence from a random page from a random book and writing for 7 minutes. I promised to attempt the assignment myself, and I did. My prompt from The Attachment Theory Workbook by Annie Chen (for a 7-minute write) was: “You also need to know how to recognize behaviors that are easily mistaken for secure but are concealing insecurity.”
This is what I wrote:
“You also need to know how to recognize behaviors that are easily mistaken for secure but are concealing insecurity.”
I know this one well, or so I believe. I’m thinking of all those junior- and high-school classmates I envied, or admired. How my mother told me and how I told myself that they weren’t being hateful or haughty. That they were simply feeling insecure. That’s why they were stuck-up and unfriendly. “He’s too shy to ask you to dance!” was the refrain. Though I was pretty sure he wasn’t dancing with me because I was too flat-chested, too tall, too pale and too skinny. I was probably too other stuff, too.
One behavior I have that might be mistaken for security or a high opinion of myself is my tendency to squint. I’m a miserable mole of a person. Very sensitive to sunlight. I wear sunglasses on a rainy day here in California. Even with my sunglasses on I’m squinting. But when I remove them, I screw my face up like a tortoise. All wrinkled and not quite human looking. A Scrooge of a woman, disapproving of somebody’s generosity, or having just stepped in dog poo, or observing a scene unfold and finding it very distasteful. I’ve seen photos, where very little about me is recognizable. I’m definitely not smiling. And some people occasionally point that out. “You look unhappy.” Or “Are you feeling okay?” or “You should smile more.”
About security and insecurity, they say to fake it until you make it. Walk around with a big benevolent smile on your face and everyone will love you and want to know you better. I’m not so sure. Because, as we all know, a smile can be a real weapon. What’s that Pink Floyd song, that line? “Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail? A smile from a veil? Do you think you can tell?” It’s my own opinion that if I’m not too distracted by thinking about my own behavior, I can indeed tell a smile from a veil. There’s a sense, a feeling, a hint about what’s hidden under the surface. It isn’t always insecurity, but it often is.
