“If Only You Had Good Teeth”
In America, teeth are a status symbol
When I was small, I wanted what my friends had — MTV, Benetton sweaters, seemingly drug-free parents, and braces. Were straight teeth and terror-free sleep too much to ask for? Especially when my mother’s face would swell from the pain of rotting roots. Always, the ache. Always, the mouth that resembled a graveyard.
While my friends suffered hallway and courtyard pummelings and endured the taunts of train-tracks and brace-face, at sixteen they rose from the ashes with shiny hair, a new wardrobe and straight, white teeth. Teeth that would follow them to college bars, first-job interviews and engagement photos.
Teeth that signaled to the world: this one had the coin to care about how they look.
My teeth weren’t an issue until severe stress and trauma revealed that not only was I grinder, but I was doing things to my mouth that had been unusual — so much so the shape of my two front teeth shifted. I went from a pretty girl preening for cameras in her twenties with uneven teeth to not smiling at all. And although I was privileged to have dental coverage and the resources to fix my teeth — for some reason, I didn’t. Perhaps I was reminded of the cruelty of children on the playground. Possibly I didn’t want to walk into meetings with a mouthful of metal because…
