Orthodontia and me

It was the same as I remembered it.

The sliding door to the parking lot. Seemingly happy faces with metal on polaroids around the office. They never took pictures of my sister and me. They had posters of Anne Geddes’ photography throughout the room. On the walls and on the ceiling.

And to the left there was a poster with anamorphic animals saying, “A mouth full of metal is a happy mouth.”

I would never announce myself when I arrived. Once inside, I sat down in the waiting room without a word and mindlessly browse through magazines until someone called my name.

Then I walked to the backroom and took a seat. Always silently with my hands in my land. Sitting up, not lying down. Waiting for the moment I could leave.

When I first came here, I was unhappy and unsmiling. He made everything hurt. Tightening. And the rules…the regulations. I knew how easily I could made of at school and refused to wear the head gear at school. The frustration and the childlike shame was all I could remember.

As I grew older, all those feelings disappeared.

Only to be replaced with “I got this permanent wire in 1999 and they said I could have it off in 3 years. It’s now 2008!”

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