At age 7, I knew nothing about dentists. My mother was the kind who didn't make use of health professionals unless there was a problem, so to this day, I'm not sure what compelled her to take me to the dentist that day. The office seemed foreign to me and I wondered what I was in for. I don't remember too much about that visit, other than it was determined that I had a cavity. It must have been a very small one, because Dr. H managed to fill it without causing me one bit of pain. I remembered being amazed and a little troubled at how numb and rubbery the side of my face felt after, but it was an otherwise uneventful...um, event. That was the only time in my memory I ever visited the dentist while I was under my parent's roof.
In the year I started middle school, some of the kids came back from summer vacation with shiny metal brackets on their teeth, and as the year progressed, these brackets began to appear on more and more smiles. I wasn't sure what it was all about, but when my best friend Emily got braces, I learned that they were uncomfortable, they cut her mouth and caused her headaches and she was forever putting wax on her finger and sticking in her mouth. When we were all together at recess, I remember the bracketed kids commiserating with one another about what they were experiencing with their silvery devices...so even though I had no clue what they were actually for, I went home and informed my mother that all the kids were getting these things, and maybe I should have them too. "Those are expensive." was the answer, and so it was decided just like that.
As time went by, the small nuisance of not being able to be like the other kids turned into a genuine envy, as the crazy looking metal came off to reveal perfect, beautiful smiles....and I was stuck with the same crooked look I'd always had. I again approached my mother..."Emily got her braces off and her teeth are soooo pretty, my teeth are crooked, so I need to get braces too!" At this point, the idea of wearing braces when everyone else was just getting theirs off bothered me a tiny bit, but now I knew what it was about, and I wanted a pretty smile too. I was denied again. I think this was about the point that I became really aware of how my teeth looked....and I didn't like it. I consequently began to try to hide it from others. I used all the common strategies. I would smile with my mouth closed, or put my hand over my mouth, or look downward when I was talking. These are habits that are still with me today at age 37.
