To me, RBF doesn’t mean neutral or temporarily annoyed or deep in concentration or “don’t hit on me while I’m walking down the street minding my own business.” It’s more when you’ve such experience with random harassment that it becomes your default expression, which you wear to Blue Bottle or the opera or anyplace just on the chance that some asshole is going to bother you. It becomes RBF when the assumed default interaction is unwelcome and negative, even when someone is honestly just asking where the bus stop is.
Women are not to be blamed for retreating into that, any more than I’m to be blamed for wearing a “don’t fucking fuck with me” face walking through a sketchy neighborhood. (Which I excel at, TBH.) Most neighborhoods are a lot sketchier for women than they are for a 210 lb hideous Mr. Hyde monster with a broken nose and missing teeth. It’s a goddamned injustice that they have to internalize that stance to the extent that it bleeds over into contexts they have every right to feel comfortable in.
