Building Character

I just went to my six-month dental check-up and the first thing the dentist told the assistant to jot in my file was, "Ortho, ortho, ortho."  It happens every six months.  A new dentist sees me and refers me to the orthodontist.  I give the same response every time: I've already seen him...twice.  Not interested.

I have always been aware of my need for braces.  In second grade, my top left central incisor came out before my baby one had fallen out.  As a result, the new one pushed the baby one outward. The rows of teeth I was acquiring caused my teacher concern.

"You need to go to the dentist," she said.
I've been conscious about my teeth ever since.

I visited the dentist as a kid a couple of times.  I remember the negative-looking x-rays that used to be hung on a lit wall-hanging and the pain of getting fillings even after getting shot with a dose of anesthesia.  But it wasn't until I was in high school and in love with one of the football players that I started to desire a perfect smile so I could possibly, perhaps, maybe have the balls to approach him.  I had an ortho consultation and got an estimate of the cost but my dad said he couldn't afford it.  To hold me over what were supposed to be the best years of my life, a dentist filled in a yellowing tooth with a cavity, my top left latelar incisor.  My improved smile didn't get me the guy but it did postpone my want for braces for over a decade.

A few years ago, I noticed a trend within women my age.  Three of my friends were being mistaken for teenagers after obtaining shiny metal contraptions in their mouths.  They were finally tackling an aesthetic issue their fathers couldn't afford in the 90s either.  So I considered braces again, not wanting to be featured in the last page of a fashion magazine with a black bar across my eyes for failing to follow the latest style.  I saw an ortho for the second time but was deterred by talk of permanent retainers.  Knowing I'd have to wear retainers to sleep for the rest of my life was one deal breaker. A second was the two-year commitment followed by the thousands of dollars I was going to have to shell out.  I was in grad school at the time and used that as an excuse as to why I couldn't afford them then.  But since I graduated, I say that I'm saving the money for a down payment on a house. 

The truth is that my teeth don't bother me that much anymore.  After another dentist touched up my yellow tooth in January, I felt they way I assume people feel when they have their braces removed.  I felt confident, relieved that I no longer had to look down when I laughed to hide my most obvious dental imperfection, and thankful for not just having one "good side" anymore when it came to getting my picture taken.  My bottom teeth are the ones that are crooked anyway and since you can't notice them in pictures, I let go of the braces idea.  My previous dentist told me straightening my teeth would help flossing and cleaning, etcetera, etcetera, but those were my healthiest teeth and gums according to my last visit.  Plus, if celebrities choose to live with crooked teeth, so can I, a regular person with a regular job doing regular things.

Take the most famous one, for example, Jewel.  I still have her first album, Pieces of You.  I remember being in ninth grade when my best friend Aurora gave me the cassette for my birthday inside a jewelry box. Get it?  Jewel in a jewelry box? Moving right along....She is infamous for her crooked teeth.  I think it was her who was quoted saying that messed-up teeth builds character.  I'm going to take her advice and run with it.  I know she recently tweeted a picture with straight choppers but the way I understood it, she was sporting that smile for a movie role only. 

My next example might be hard to believe, but Scarlett Johansson caught my eye in The Avengers, and not because she had an enviable body in that leather costume.  One of her lateral incisors is overlapping a front tooth and that was I all could focus on whenever she appeared in a scene.

If you look closely, you'll see what I'm talking about.  I think she pouts so she can hide it but she couldn't escape my eye.

And last but not least, there is Will Farrell, who shares my problem: a crooked set of lower pearly whites.  His are worse than mine.  It was hard not to notice them in Step Brothers.  Here's a bad looking scene. 

And with that, I leave you with a picture of my friend and me.  We have probably spent the equivalent of a set of braces on other dental procedures without the need of twisted wires, rubber bands, or retainers.  I consider ourselves lucky.

What crooked teeth??? We are flawless!