(this is annie)


my bad teeth

I really hate my teeth.

I know I should go on this love-your-body kick and thank my chompers for being there and for helping me chew and all that jazz. And yet, I feel like the dental progeny of Mr. Ed and Bugs Bunny. I hate seeing pictures of myself, because all I can see are the four teeth that rush out awkwardly over my lips. And then I start feeling them with my tongue and lips, and they start to feel gigantic, and on bad days it makes me want to cry. My thoughts then rush into warp speed, and I'm convinced that by the time I am 40, the teeth will have protruded to a 90-degree angle.

It wouldn't be so frustrating if I hadn't already had braces twice. Twice! With headgear and rubber bands and everything!

I looked into getting braces —the fancy Invisalign kind, because I refuse to be metal-mouthed again — but even at the dental school, that costs $3500. That's not affordable for me, so instead I push on my teeth from the outside. It probably doesn't do any good, but I like to think that it offsets my tongue thrust. Maybe by the time I am 30, if I save up a little money each month, I will be able to pay for the invisible braces and stop obsessing over my teeth.

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    it's anniet at gmail.


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