There’s this girl on America’s Next Top Model. We’ll call her Chelsey. Mostly because that’s her name. But, you know, she’s now interchangeable with the likes of Lauren Hutton and Madonna and Anna Paquin (only they are actually famous and Chelsey is merely a contestant on a reality tv show, but I digress). At least that’s what Tyra Banks said when she convinced poor Chelsey to get her gap shaved to…um, what? Make her look more like a model?
To me, this seems like absolute madness. I mean, I get it. In fact, makeover week is my absolute favorite on ANTM. I love counting how many times the models cry and are devastated that they have had a cut/a color/a weave that they don’t like. And don’t get me started on when they start whining about their itchy weaves. But, dudes, that’s HAIR. It grows back. It can be dyed back. When you get the fated, I’m sorry, you are no longer in the running to becoming America’s Next Top Model, you can do whatever you want to your hair. But you giant GAPTOOTH? That shit is there for good, unless you want to slap some braces on.
I really hope she wins.
So, no, I will not be asking Santa for a giant gap in my teeth this year.
Because I? Really want braces. I do.
And I need them too. Just ask my BFF…she’s also a dentist. Heh.
You see, I once had braces put on my teeth. I was eight (EIGHT!) and they put braces on my front four teeth. But, here’s the thing? Forcing a third grader to wear braces is not always the smartest idea. Because in third grade, when you are starting to go from cute little munchkin to all-around awkward – where your limbs are too long and your nose is too big for your face  – adding metalmouth into the mix? NOT COOL.
So, the pliers and I? We became good friends. And my mother got so frustrated that she was all, “FINE! YOU DON’T WANT BRACES…I DON’T CARE! LET YOUR TEETH FACE EACH OTHER!” So, thinking that I had won this battle, I lived my life without getting a full mouth of braces.
But now I realize that I won nothing. It was my mother who had won. Well, at least her bank account had won. Because now if I want to have braces, guess who has to pay for them?
Just guess.
Here’s a hint. It’s not my mom.
I hate my teeth. So much so that I do this.
A lot.
I wish I didn’t. I wish my first instinct wasn’t to keep my hands in front of my mouth when I talk or when I am looking at people. I wish that when I see pictures of myself like this
I could see my good features, my smile, my dimple, my eyes, my skin, my hair…something other than my crooked teeth. But sadly? It’s all I see.
PS. This is for all of you. The things I do for you, OMG.
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