It's not that I don't like My Teeth. My Teeth are not what I have. I liked My Teeth. My Teeth were almost completely knocked out when I was riding a bike that was way too big for me. I was around 7 or 8 years old. Anyway, after a traumatizing ordeal of waiting for my dentist to come back from a golf outing or something to put My Teeth back into place, I spent months not being able to bite with the front ones, since they were to be treated gingerly until my mouth healed a bit from the incident. The front two were bonded together and for awhile after, I ate my PB&J with a knife and fork. The kids were not kind to me, as they did not understand why anyone would feel the need to eat one's PB&J with a knife and fork. Eh. I forgive them. What did they know?
Okay, so I was called Bucky Beaver, Bugs Bunny, even Bucky the Wonderhorse. (True story.) All this because I had some big teeth. And until these wonderful names were bestowed upon me, I had been perfectly happy with them. Thanks, grade school wisenheimers. You are and always will be the beginnings of my neuroses. Thank you ever so much.
Moving on.
In 6th grade I got braces. I was to have them off in the 9th grade. The day I was to have them removed, Dr. Preis (not at all a gentle man, mind you), informed me that My Teeth were not yet ready. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Four molars pulled, and three and a half YEARS of elastics in my mouth later (not to mention the HEADGEAR he'd recommended I wear at home), he was telling me that My Teeth were not ready.
Argh.
Eventually they WERE ready, and the braces came off, and My Teeth looked beautiful.
This did not last long. Because of the trauma my front teeth had experienced a decade prior, (this I found out later from another orthodontist who examined me) my teeth would behave as hair that has a cowlick. No matter how many times you straighten traumatized teeth, they wanna act up. Except in the 10th grade when I noticed My Teeth shifting, and went back to Dr. Preis, he acted as though the shifting was My Fault. He'd given me one of those gross plastic retainers that looks like a tooth-whitening tray. Because the front two teeth shift vertically up and down, it made the tray not fit to the point where my now imperfect bite would cause the retainer to rock back and forth between my front and back teeth.
After graduating highschool, I had clear braces put back on. I then went to live in Pittsburgh.
And then joined the circus.
Okay, not the circus, although sometimes it felt that way. I started performing in musical revue shows (in which one's sparkling smile is meant to dazzle and wow) and found that after getting THESE braces off, that My Teeth (the front ones now graying and brittle from the trauma and a root canal), were still not perfect. And they were shifting again.
I saved up all I could to get them veneered. I went to a dentist recommended to me by a family who'd gone to him all their lives when I was doing shows in Michigan. And for about a year or so, my teeth were close to perfect. I felt beautiful, and confident.
About a year and a half later, I noticed My Teeth shifting again. (This is when I went to see the orthodontist that told me his cowlick analogy.) I could have had braces yet again, but I also would need a PERMANENT retainer (you hear that, Dr. Preis!) so that I could forever enjoy my expensive, restored, perfect smile. Except at this point, I also needed a car. So I waited on the braces.
In the meantime, I worked and lived many places. Found myself wanting to come home to acquire my graphic design degree. Doing so made me dirt poor, but rich in knowledge. I still perform. I have an amazing boyfriend.
And you know what I want more than anything? More than a vacation? More than a new car? More than ANYTHING??? A beautiful, perfect smile. Of the symmetrical variety. Especially with all the $$$$ that's been put into my mouth! Braces TWICE and veneers! I should have doubly perfect teeth, but they're awful! They're ugly, and I hate them.
There. That's my dirty little secret. I HATE MY SMILE. I hate even my serious faces more, because they do not look like me. My Teeth, the ones I was supposed to have, unflawed, untraumatized, were beautiful. I would have grown into them. And now I feel like it's the one thing I cannot have. I cannot afford to pay whatever it would cost to fix them. I would need caps, maybe, implants, maybe, and gum grafts, maybe.
To have a beautiful smile would be a dream come true. And I get frustrated and annoyed when I think of Dr. Preis and how we paid him all that cash and he didn't even think to think about my trauma when my teeth began to shift, he just blamed the teenager for being a teenager. He should've listened. He should have given me a permanent retainer, for starters. I know lots of people who have permanent retainers who had no trauma to their mouths ever! And for me: nada!
So that's about all you're going to hear out of me on that. I actually cannot even believe I brought it up. It's like, if I act like it doesn't exist, if I wear red lipstick, maybe no one will notice. But truly, I am always a bit self-concious and always a little bit feeling like the ugly duckling, and, honestly, I feel I've paid enough already to have a perfect smile. So why don't I have one? I think that's what generally upsets me.
You won't be hearing me whine about this topic anymore. Typically, I do not whine at all. But I just wanted to get this out of my system so I could perhaps stop letting it bother me to the point where it's keeping me up at night.
Sheesh.
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