Brace Face Barrett

Growing up, I longed for the day that I would have braces. On my teeth, not on my legs. Although, come to think about it, I wouldn't have minded having leg braces either. I was pretty obsessed with crutches and dreamt of the day I would have a legitimate reason to use them. My friend and neighbor, Lisa, was always twisting her ankle, the lucky duck, and had a stock of ACE bandages and various crutches around her house. I'd go over to her house and spend hours swinging around on them.

But really what I longed for were orthodontic braces. Silvery, shining pieces of twisted metal pieces. Very adult braces. I just thought they seemed like they would feel so cool in your mouth. I liked the way that brace-faced teenagers on the Disney Programs would say their "S'es". And I relished the attention I'd get from talking about them with strangers.

"Would you like a stick of gum, young miss?" said the beautiful stranger lady in the office supply isle of the Roses Department Store.

"Oh, no, ma'am. You see, I have braces and cannot chew gum," I answered while perusing the assortment of various ball point pens.

"Did it hurt when you got them on?" the beautiful stranger lady further inquired.

"Why, yes, ma'am, they did, thank you for asking."

"Bless your heart. I'm going to buy you that pen you have in your hand, plus that pile of carbon paper I saw you eying. I know you must have many important forms to fill out in duplicate. You seem like you have very pretty handwriting," said the beautiful stranger lady with a mix of both sympathy and jealousy in her response.

And she was right, I did have many important forms to fill out and very pretty handwriting.

Up until I was 3 years old, I would suck on my first three right fingers. Of course, most young children suck on their thumb, but I wasn't like most young children. I had to do everything differently. So everywhere I went, in stores, in the car and in Christmas photos with Santa, I would have my first three fingers in my mouth.

One day, while we were visiting my aunt and uncle in North Carolina, my mom, warned me that if I kept sucking on my fingers, I'd need braces. I asked her what braces were. She told me they were pieces of metal put in my mouth to straighten my teeth. She said that they hurt. Not knowing that I would one day want braces, I stopped sucking my fingers from that moment on.

Really, it didn't matter how much I sucked on my fingers. I had inherited my father’s crowded mouth and at 10 years old, on the young side of your average braces-wearer, I was told that my dream would finally come true, that I would need to wear braces.

Finally! No more straightening out paper clips, bending them to the shape of my teeth and wearing them! No more flattening out chewing gum and keeping it on the roof like a retainer! No more holding silver earrings up to my teeth so I could see what I'd look like with those precious brackets. I'd finally know first hand, how cool braces were!

For the next 4 years, I had almost every orthodontic procedure done to my mouth: teeth pullings, spacers, lip bumpers, a strange and painful roof thing that twisted my back molars, a plethora of brackets, bands, wires and rubber bands twisted and woven in front of every single tooth. Most of it put me on a pain-induced no-chew/Advil diet for several days after each appointment. For what seemed like an eternity, I couldn’t eat most all of the candy that I once loved. My mouth was a battleground of lip cuts and canker sores.

But, let me tell you, besides the disappointment of finding out that I would never get to wear a headgear and the gag-inducing plaster impressions that they made of my teeth before and after the whole ordeal, those were the best 4 years of my life.