To help you understand why the day I got my braces fitted was the best day of my life so far, I have to explain the insecurity and what it’s done to me over the years. This is also the post where I tell you about the actual brace fitting, but I’ve split it in to two parts as this is going to be a long post.
I can’t believe I’m going to admit this, but I sucked my thumb pretty much till the day I got my braces fitted. It was a comfort thing, and even to this day when I find myself feeling a bit sad or anxious, I really have to fight an urge to do it. 25 years of thumb-sucking ruined my teeth in childhood. Looking at pictures of myself as a young child, smiling with no care in the world and no insecurity whatsoever should make me happy, but when I see pictures of my teeth it makes my stomach drop.
I have to say, I was never bullied about them. In fact, a lot of people told me they weren’t noticeable and half as bad as I thought they were. All my life I’ve been told I’m pretty, beautiful, stunning…but the insecurity would never let me believe it. A handful of people have actually commented on my teeth throughout my life, not too many at all. As a child, I was offered braces as most children are- but I didn’t have an insecurity about my teeth back then. I didn’t fancy wearing metal train tracks at school- I thought people would laugh at me. How I wish I could go back in time and flying kick myself.
I didn’t actually develop the complex about my teeth until high shcool, I think I was about 12 or 13. Two of my friends were trying to set me up with a boy- we’d had a phone conversation and hit it off (as 12 year olds do! Cringe). He sent a photo of himself to my friend’s phone to show me- and I still remember the girly excitement sweeping over us as we discovered he was ‘kinda cute’. So it was my turn to send a picture. I smiled confidently at the camera, feeling great about myself. Then the three of us huddled to look at the picture.
“You look soooo pretty!” Said my friend Courtney (not her real name). “Let’s send this one!” I felt like I looked pretty in the picture too, so I agreed. A few minutes later, he texted back to Courtney’s phone. With a gasp, she put the phone away and stood up. “He’s an idiot,” she said. “Forget him.”
“What did he say?!” I pleaded, heart racing as I wondered what possibly could have gone wrong. He obviously didn’t think I was pretty. After five minutes of begging Courtney to tell me, she reluctantly said the words that would spark a crippling insecurity within me for years to come.
“He said he’s not interested in you because you’ve got buck teeth,” she said. From then, my teeth became an obsession for me. I’d look at them in the mirror any chance I got. Every time something didn’t work out with a boy, I’d blame them, a pattern that has continued into my adult life. My friends would try to reassure me constantly. “There’s nothing wrong with your teeth,” they’d say. 12 years later, the only thing that has changed is the friends saying it. Ever since that day, this stupid insecurity has been like a dark cloud over my head. When I was 14, I remember a ratty little boy shouting ‘horse teeth’ at me. I turned around and shouted at him, and he never mentioned it again. They’re the only two childhood incidents I can really recall. My teenage and early adult years were a cycle of me going from me being able to put on a brave face- appearing the most confident, happy person some days and then going through dark, depressed spells. I’d cry my eyes out to my parents, begging them to help me find a way to afford treatment for my teeth. I’d cry to my friends, depressed I would never meet anyone because no-one would want me with teeth like mine. It was just a dangerous cycle of self-loathing and I was emotional wreck a lot of the time. I don’t know how my family and friends put up with me!
As I got older, the insecurity grew and grew. As an adult, if anyone brought up a conversation about teeth, my heart would race and I’d freeze, praying no-one would bring up mine. It did happen a few months ago, when I worked in a small office. A colleague with the loudest voice ever (and he didn’t exactly have perfect pearly whites himself, might I add) decided to start a conversation about my teeth in front of everyone. “You’ve got rabbit teeth,” He declared. So original. He wasn’t even trying to be nasty, it was just an observation and a bit of banter. Mortified me all the same.
The insecurity affected every part of my life, including my love life. I had relationships with men, but I was always so insecure that I always ended up feeling lucky to have them, instead of realizing that they were lucky to have me. I gave way too much too soon, and they always ended up leaving in the end. Most of them came crawling back, mind you! But the bottom line is none of them could love me, because I didn’t love myself. It sounds so cliché, but it’s true. I had to be very careful when I was seeing a guy. Careful not to let them see me from certain angles, careful not to draw attention to my teeth- it was a constant issue for me which meant I could never fully let go and relax with a guy. No wonder they always ended up leaving- maybe it didn’t have anything to do with my teeth at all.
In group situations, I’d always be careful about things like what seat I took at a table in a restaurant, for example. I hated sitting directly next to someone, and preferred to sit opposite, so they couldn’t look at me from the side. Photos-that was another big issue for me. God forbid somebody ever caught me from the side and uploaded it thinking nothing of it- it would absolutely torture me. Rarely happened though. After the first time or two, I learnt very quickly to always be ready for the camera- mouth shut and front facing. I never smiled in photos. I would work myself up, thinking about how I could never get married because I could never have pictures taken of me from the side. Crazy how these insecurities can make you think.
Another annoying side effect of this insecurity was my obsession with teeth in general. I couldn’t tell you the name of someone I went to school with ten years ago, but I bet I could tell you what their teeth looked like. Somewhere down the line I developed a habit of staring at people’s teeth, hating myself the whole time and praying they don’t notice that I’m doing it. I’m training myself to stop now though as I’d die if someone called me out on it. Paranoia, another side effect. I was certain that every single person that ever met me thought my teeth let me down. ‘She’d be so pretty if it wasn’t for her teeth.’ I was convinced that everyone thought this and said it behind my back. I don’t even know where that came from. But I was damn sure it was true.
Meanwhile, my quest for treatment was always ongoing. I would search the next for hours looking for options. I could tell you every type of brace system that exists- I’ve researched them all. Every enquiry I made was a disappointment, either I was quoted thousands I didn’t have or I wasn’t suitable for the treatment. I saw an article about adults possibly being able to get free braces on the NHS if you were referred by a counsellor. So when I was 21, I decided to take a trip to my GP. I walked into her office- it was a lady I’d never seen before. I managed to mumble ‘I’m depressed’ before bursting into tears- I was inconsolable. She referred me to a counsellor, a lovely man I used to go and see on a Tuesday called Neil (not his real name). It was really difficult for me- as I got older I rarely spoke about my teeth. I hated drawing attention to them. So having to sit for an hour and speak about them was emotionally draining, I’d cry, I’d feel stupid and embarrassed and impatience got the better of me- I felt like I was doing it all for nothing. I ended up having to move house, meaning I was no longer local to the counseling service, so I stopped going. But it did help, while I was doing it.
The final straw was about a year ago. I’d found a Groupon deal offering braces for £500 (or a similar price, I can’t remember exactly how much). Mum and Dad agreed to help me pay £100 of it, and I planned to pay the rest from my wages. I took my Mum tothe consultation. He took one look at my teeth and told me braces wouldn’t fix them.
“It’s the position of your jaw. Your teeth will never be straight and nothing can fix them,” he said, almost smirking at me. “In order to even try to fix your teeth, you’ll need jaw surgery, and you’ll have to wear headgear. Then you’d probably need two years in braces and even still, your teeth would not be fixed.” I’d heard all I wanted to hear. Imagine someone telling you that you could never fix the one thing you hated about yourself, your biggest insecurity. I wanted to run out, but he wouldn’t stop talking. And he still had a stupid smirk on his face. Once he shut up, I thanked him and left. I managed to keep it together until we left the building- then I completely broke down. In a way I never had before. I was absolutely distraught. My poor Mum looked terrified, neither of us had seen me like this before. “I want to kill myself!” I kept repeating. “I don’t want to live like this anymore. I want to kill myself!” I just snapped- I’d lost it.
That dentist made me feel hopeless. I felt trapped in my insecurity forever. Once I calmed down, I made a mental note to never lose it like that again. I also didn’t give up- I had no other option but to fix my teeth. I couldn’t live like this anymore, but I had to live. If I had known a year later, I’d be sitting here with braces on, I would have told that dentist to go FUDGE himself.
So that’s a bit of background on the events leading up to me getting braces. I never speak about any of those things that happened, so I really had to do a bit of searching inside myself to even remember some of that stuff. Writing this is this first time I realized what caused this insecurity in the first place, so I’ve had a little revelation tonight too. In Part 2, we’re going to speak about the actual day I got my braces fitted, and what to expect if your lucky day is approaching too. Feel free to comment me your thoughts x
SJ XO
embracingthebraces 