Last month I got braces, again. It wasn’t a surprise and I’d willingly agreed: I’d seen the X-rays, heard both my dentist and orthodontist make their cases, made the down payment, and maybe worked myself into a panic going to Dr. Google in the days leading up to the installation.
Yet, sitting in the car after my appointment, clutching the list of the do’s and don'ts of taking care of this new hardware, I was hit with a fresh wave of “What have I done?” panic. I flipped the car visor down and opened the mirror to assess my new smile. All I could see was metal. My tentative smile, more like a grimace, soon became a pout. I thought: “It’s like I’m 13 again!” But not really.
See, the year I turned 13 I went through a lot of changes: new school, newly straightened hairstyle, my first set of eyeglasses, and my first set of braces. Whew! But I remember that, somehow, I embraced these changes as a rite of passage and was excited.
However, anytime I look back at pictures from that time—with my wide grin, the glare bouncing off the lenses of my too-big-for-my-face frames—I wince: My teenage self had no idea that she should feel awkward.
But as an adult, I know the routine.
So, a few days before I got my new set of braces, I posted a “farewell” post to my smile on my Instagram account. I anticipated having a stern, close-mouthed smile for the next couple of years. Beyond the discomfort, I was worried about how others would see me. Self-conscious that the fix for a problem I didn’t even know I had was now going to be visible to everyone.
Initially, I thought it would be much easier to just nod in agreement or try to emote through interested eyes or utterances to avoid drawing attention. But a few days later, I realized: I smile a lot. Even though the wires from my braces were scraping the inside of my mouth, and my lips were tired from adjusting to the brackets. I couldn’t help it. When trying to entertain my niece and nephew via FaceTime; or watching students light up with surprise at an awards ceremony; commiserating with a coworker between classes; or catching up with a mentor after a long while–a smile broke out naturally. In those moments, I wasn’t worried about what others thought about me (besides the new, very real concern about having food stuck in my brackets). I was more invested in connecting with colleagues, celebrating with those who were rejoicing or laughing with others.
Coincidentally, around the same time I got my braces, I was navigating an unexpected health situation. Another problem to fix. It wasn’t visible and I didn’t talk about it much, but I felt similarly marked: Broken. Sick. It was another change I didn’t want to deal with. I resigned myself to wallowing as I processed various what-ifs and tried to keep myself busy. But an interesting thing happened as I waited to find out what my next steps would be: I managed to show up and smile, even at the most mundane things sometimes. The juxtaposition seemed odd at first but it wasn’t a denial of what was going on. Rather, it felt like a way to assert what was important to me in the midst of uncertainty and discomfort. My smile was resilient and no clunky braces or potential bad news were going to change that.
Several days after my cryptic and dramatic “farewell” on IG—and shortly after learning from my doctor that I’d be fine—I shared a pic of my new smile. “Sporting some new accessories,” I wrote. “Kinda hurts to smile but I realize I can’t help it!”
Despite the discomfort, I decided I wouldn’t let these changes define me, make me shrink. I’d adapt instead, even if it wasn’t with the same gusto as my teen self. Yes, there are times when overwhelm and uncertainty threaten to stamp out my smile. And I’ll admit, sometimes when I’m lost in worry, my smile is hard to find or it emerges while tears stream down my face, like a sun shower. But regardless of the change or challenge, it’s there because those constraints, like my braces, are only temporary. Joy remains. There’s something that discomfort, uncertainty and stress can’t extinguish. And it’s worth smiling about, even when it hurts.
The Student Movement is the official student newspaper of 老司机传媒. Opinions expressed in the Student Movement are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors, 老司机传媒 or the Seventh-day Adventist church.