I have a confession to make. I have crooked teeth, including (gasp!) a front tooth that is broken. If you think that's scandalous, listen to this - I HAVE NO INTENTION OF FIXING THEM AND I DON'T FEEL BAD ABOUT IT. There are a few reasons for this.
1. I'm very practical. There's nothing wrong with my teeth, so repairing them would be entirely cosmetic. In this day and age, it is not difficult to justify spending several thousand dollars on beautifying oneself for kicks. For most people. But I was raised by a woman who, when asked by her husband of 25 years if he could finally buy her a diamond ring, asked for her floors to be refinished instead. Does she not know that I stand to inherit said diamonds in the future?!?! Come on, man. Ironically, she now has Invisalign.
2. I think having crooked teeth is secretly kinda cool. I mean, how many people do you know who still have crooked teeth under the age of 40? Excluding the Brits? I grew up going to private school in southern California in the 80's and 90's. Every single kid had braces and subsequently perfect, straight, white teeth. At an age where fitting in mattered, there was a time I smiled with my mouth closed for pictures. (I was also uncharacteristically quiet when period-related wars stories were swapped. My period came so late, I was afraid I was missing a few essential female organs for awhile there). But once the acceptable age for getting braces passed (junior high), I accepted that my ship had sailed. So before this post makes you think I'm so cool and modest, I must confess that I find the idea of adult braces embarrassing.
3. I often forget my teeth are crooked in the first place. Weird, right? The perks of a high self-esteem, baby. My parents may not have sprung for braces, but they certainly made sure I knew I was awesome. Seriously, how often do I stare in the mirror and critique my looks? Not often, to be honest. Maybe this makes me an unusual American woman, but I think I'm just fine the way I am. Perhaps that's hard to believe, as I'm writing this post in the first place. And sure, occasionally a picture will crop up at an angle that I am reminded, huh, that tooth is still broken. Interesting.
As content as I am with my teeth, apparently I don't intend to teach my children the same lesson of self-acceptance. At Macy's check-up the other day, the dentist discretely asked if our family had a history of crowding. When I answered affirmatively, she pointed out on the X-ray how GINORMOUS her adult teeth are just under the surface. I raced home to confirm with Tim that we are on the same page about braces. Conformity it is, my friends!
1. I'm very practical. There's nothing wrong with my teeth, so repairing them would be entirely cosmetic. In this day and age, it is not difficult to justify spending several thousand dollars on beautifying oneself for kicks. For most people. But I was raised by a woman who, when asked by her husband of 25 years if he could finally buy her a diamond ring, asked for her floors to be refinished instead. Does she not know that I stand to inherit said diamonds in the future?!?! Come on, man. Ironically, she now has Invisalign.
2. I think having crooked teeth is secretly kinda cool. I mean, how many people do you know who still have crooked teeth under the age of 40? Excluding the Brits? I grew up going to private school in southern California in the 80's and 90's. Every single kid had braces and subsequently perfect, straight, white teeth. At an age where fitting in mattered, there was a time I smiled with my mouth closed for pictures. (I was also uncharacteristically quiet when period-related wars stories were swapped. My period came so late, I was afraid I was missing a few essential female organs for awhile there). But once the acceptable age for getting braces passed (junior high), I accepted that my ship had sailed. So before this post makes you think I'm so cool and modest, I must confess that I find the idea of adult braces embarrassing.
3. I often forget my teeth are crooked in the first place. Weird, right? The perks of a high self-esteem, baby. My parents may not have sprung for braces, but they certainly made sure I knew I was awesome. Seriously, how often do I stare in the mirror and critique my looks? Not often, to be honest. Maybe this makes me an unusual American woman, but I think I'm just fine the way I am. Perhaps that's hard to believe, as I'm writing this post in the first place. And sure, occasionally a picture will crop up at an angle that I am reminded, huh, that tooth is still broken. Interesting.
As content as I am with my teeth, apparently I don't intend to teach my children the same lesson of self-acceptance. At Macy's check-up the other day, the dentist discretely asked if our family had a history of crowding. When I answered affirmatively, she pointed out on the X-ray how GINORMOUS her adult teeth are just under the surface. I raced home to confirm with Tim that we are on the same page about braces. Conformity it is, my friends!