My family and friends have never seen me smile naturally. I do not do it to be deceitful; I just feel pressured to keep up appearances.

It is what most people expect from you. It reassures them you are not about to lash out or to suddenly take a bite out of their arm. If you do not smile, they will think there is something wrong with you, and perhaps they will believe it to be true. Perhaps they are right.

The selfie is very much my enemy.

“Smile!” says the well meaning wannabe photographer, “Say cheese!” she insists.

Out of panic I play along, I stretch my mouth forcibly to show my teeth. I hate my smile . . . I have always hated my smile. Then when it is all over, everyone gathers around the smartphone to sign off on it, as it were, and like the great Caesar, give their approval or disapproval. Most are too polite to reject the photo. I try in vain to dial down my disgust at my own image – an unhappily contorted mouth under sad hollow eyes looking straight into the lens.

Deceit begins at a young age for those who are different, for those who have always known they were different. A picture speaks volumes – none more so than one which is posed.

I think of an old photograph of my grandparents on their wedding day. The bride and groom standing still with the best man and bridesmaid seated on either side. Everyone in the portrait stares almost blankly into the camera as if holding their breath. There is nothing grand about it; it is all rather stiff looking apart from my grandfather. If I look closely enough at it, I notice an honest and unmistakable smirk from the corner of his mouth, and an almost cheeky sparkle in his eyes. He strikes me as a modern Mona Lisa, with some unspoken joy just creeping up to catch a glimpse of the serious sombre world.

Surely, if we returned to that way of taking photos, perhaps I might find something real to smile about? The whole world in fact! They would be true smiles – joyful, humorous, defiant against mundane miserable faces.

Happy Birthday, indeed.

How can anyone smile when surrounded by people who think nothing of you but one day a year, and why? To feign gratitude for your existence then vanish from your life?

I would prefer not. I really, really would prefer not.