It only takes a fraction of a second, but a smile has the power to change everything. And that’s not just for those on the receiving end. According to a 2019 meta-analysis of data from more than 100 studies, smiling makes the person who’s doing it feel happier. From the flash of a grin by a stranger on the bus to the beam of a parent as their children stride through the door, even the most casual smiles have an emotional weight that we feel on an almost cellular level. Here, we chart the power of smiles, from birth to old age.
‘The first time my baby smiled at me, it blew my mind’
Jack Yearwood, 33, Woking
My wife seemed to bond with our daughter immediately. I loved her from the off – I mean, it helped that she looked a lot like me – but it wasn’t in that overwhelming way that I’d hoped for.
Mainly, I felt out of my depth. Our baby was so tiny, I was terrified of damaging her. I only got two weeks of paternity leave and because she was breastfeeding I wasn’t as hands-on as I’d hoped. In a way, I was jealous of the bond my wife had with her.
But then, when my daughter was two months old, she smiled at me. I experienced this huge rush of love; I remember thinking: “I’m your dad …” and it blew my mind. It was the first time I felt properly like a dad. I’m pretty sure I had a tear in my eye. Now our daughter is one and she smiles at me all the time. I still can’t really get over it. And I suppose it helps that she still looks a lot like me.
‘I think of that as the smile that saved our friendship’
Michelle Bickerton, 35, Birmingham
The second time my best friend asked me to be her bridesmaid, I accepted with trepidation. She’d got engaged to her first partner very soon after they met, and afterwards she spent years dealing with the emotional fallout of the breakup.
So when she met someone new, I cautioned her to take it slow. Within a few months, though, she announced their engagement. Though I was delighted that she was happy, I feared history would repeat itself.
The wedding took a year to plan and my worry wouldn’t subside. I kept my distance from my friend’s new partner. A few times I tried to say that maybe they should slow down or postpone the wedding. “It’s different this time,” she said. But I could see my advice was bothering her.
Eventually, I decided it wasn’t a good idea for me to be a bridesmaid. As the big day drew closer, the gap between us seemed to widen and I worried that I’d lost my best friend.
The thing that finally convinced me that this time was different was seeing her smile as the marriage was made official. She was so obviously, radiantly happy. I burst into tears and ran to hug her and her new wife. Five years later, they’re more in love than ever and her partner has become one of my best friends too. I think of that as the smile that saved our friendship.
‘That smile represented the end of an ordeal. It was the first time I realised how amazing it was that I’d survived’
Craig McLean, 51, London
Six years ago, I collapsed face first into the porcelain bathroom sink. My bottom teeth came clean (well, bloodily) through my lip. My top teeth splintered like ice on a frozen puddle. It turned out that I was haemorrhaging internally due to a duodenal ulcer; it was so bad that I was in danger of a heart attack. An emergency surgery, two blood transfusions and five nights in hospital later, I’d pulled through.
But what about the shrapnel formerly known as my teeth? For a few agonising weeks, I waited to find out if there was any hope of turning my stumps into anything even slightly approximating my old smile. “The teeth may die,” the dentist warned.
I don’t recall that time very well, I think I was in shock. But I clearly remember the day that I finally got my teeth fixed. I looked in the mirror and felt so relieved to recognise myself again. That smile represented the end of an ordeal. It was the first time I realised how amazing it was that I’d survived.
‘The moment my patient who was in a coma heard his wife’s voice, he smiled. I’ll never forget his amazing smile’
Tessa Hogben, 29, Byfleet
As a palliative care nurse, my patients are often unresponsive. It’s very hard for their families. “Do you think he heard me?” they ask. “Is it worth us talking to them?” The truth is, we can’t know for sure. But I also tell these families the story of how I ended up in my job.
The day I decided to apply, I was caring for an elderly patient who’d been unresponsive. I chatted to him but he didn’t seem to hear me. Then his wife – they’d been married for about 60 years – came in and said: “Hello”. The moment he heard her, he smiled.
I’ll never forget his amazing smile – I felt incredibly privileged to have witnessed that moment. I immediately put in a request to join the palliative care team and, four years later, I still absolutely love what I do.
Read more at tepe.com/uk
