Teeth Issues

While browsing photos of my school days, I saw a skinny girl with a bob haircut and buck-teeth, who smiled in her initial photos. That girl was me. Initially, I had no issues with my teeth being that way.

I don’t remember that issue’s beginning, but in my later photos, one may guess from my grim expression in them, that I hated being photographed. But that wasn’t the real reason. Standing in front of the mirror regularly, I had tried out various smiles. Smiles with slight modifications made me look stupid and smiles which hid my teeth, made be look artificially happy (Not that everyone is genuinely happy in photos, but why make it so obvious?). After many trials, I settled on that grave countenance. My usual unsmiling countenance proved easier. It felt somewhat cool to appear uninterested.

When it was first discovered that two of my incisors had started peeking outside, my parents began tracing the origins of this gene in me (This always happened when close relatives were talking to them). Various ancestors, some of whom I didn’t even know, would be recalled and eliminated, since they didn’t possess such teeth. Later this would open a sister topic: How to correct the position of my teeth? Wearing Braces was the only solution. My classmate had a different solution for it: Press my toothbrush hard on my protruding teeth daily while brushing. That had sounded dumb to me, even at that time.

One fine day, I was taken to the dentist. I began dreading it when he told that few of my milk teeth should be removed first. In three appointments, it was done and I was overjoyed to have survived the ordeal, mentally and emotionally too! After the braces were fixed, I was strictly barred from eating hard and sticky stuff (like chocolates and chewing gums), much to my frustration. I was told to brush my teeth in a certain way. That took an hour originally, before I threw my patience to the winds and finished it within three minutes.

Braces didn’t change my solemnity in photos because this time, I was unhappy. Just after the braces were fixed, my teeth pained like as if they were on fire, the walls of my mouth became…never mind. In all, it was brutally painful. I was fed up to the teeth with my controlled intake of goodies for which I had a huge sweet tooth. Finally, one day, I popped an Eclairs toffee in my mouth and chewed it rebelliously. There was no problem, until it was stuck to my molar and came out only after bringing down the clasp of the braces’ wire with it. OOPS! I didn’t dare eat any chocolate after that.

After the tenure of my braces ended, I prided myself for having developed a firm confidence in going to the clinic and getting all sorts of operations done to my teeth. I doubted if anyone else had an experience like I had and laughed at those who dreaded to visit the dentist. My teeth gave in after fighting a losing battle for three years and I happily began to flash them for every photograph, also earning the compliment of having a photogenic face!