I have a belief, it's not one that is overly spiritual or insightful, it wont change your mind on anything major, but I think you should hear me out. It is my belief that all human beings have what I call, "the ugly years."
It happens somewhere between childhood and puberty, and it turns the cutest of children into awkward looking tweens. I may sound like an asshole, but dig up an old photo of yourself in those years and you will cringe.
You were ugly once, and so was I. The year was 1991 and my body was indeed doing things I didn't fully understand. I became ugly looking. I went from being a sweet blond haired cutie pie and turned into a freak; aka the reverse ugly duckling.
Life isn't fair, and starting out as the swan and working backwards is a sick joke in my opinion, but it's true. Not only was I chubby with buck teeth, I started to get pimples and sweat stains under my arms (sigh, I still suffer from pit stains, but I OWN them well).
I remember being afraid to ask any questions in class, for fear of my giant sweat circles that expanded as the day progressed being a perfect target for my classmates. The good news for me, my parents were getting me fixed up to fix my teeth.
I do not hate the dentist, I really like the feeling of a nice clean mouth, but I still fear the other guy, the orthodontis. I have no good memories of going, and to this day still cringe when I drive by it.
I am lucky to have parents who provided me with good dental care; but some part of me still thinks there is something sadistic about the care provided. I started off with retainers, a popular item in the realm of ortho.
I moved on to metal brackets with elastics on my teeth (you know, the ones that make you look like you have spit hanging in your mouth every time you speak?) I hated it, but they didn't prepare me for the day of the dreaded news.
I knew I had to get braces eventually, it was what I was working up to with all the other crap. I never expected to be THAT KID though, the one from the mid-eighties to mid-nineties...the kid with headgear.
For those of you not familiar with headgear, go google that shit now. I recall sitting in the chair across from Dr. Douche (actually he was a really nice man) as he told me that for a few months, I would be required to wear headgear.
It was the kind with the straps that sat on top of your head, causing a hairdo most unpleasant, and it was pink - my most hated colour at the time.
I sunk even lower as he explained it was important to wear it for most of the day, which included the first while - to school. Wear headgear to school? Are you kidding me?!
What I should have said (had I not been twelve and unable to express myself in such a way) was: Ok, let me get this straight, you want me to be the chubby pit stained crooked toothed kid, with headgear? But I didn't, I simply sat there.
The terror of wearing that crap to school wasn't actually that bad. To be honest with you I was never teased to much, I had a good defense mechanism. Make fun of yourself first, laugh with them, and move on.
The grade five students at my school seemed ok with this set up, and mostly reassured me that in the end I would have a lovely smile.
I suffered through it, and the end result was grand. No more buck teeth, no more biting into food and seeing a V shape. It was fairly livable, with one exception.
Nor Anderson, my father. Ahem. My dad thought it was HILARIOUS to consistently ask me at home if I could pick up any radio stations, check the weather, or if I had fallen into a pile of "metal poles" that somehow attached to my headband.
He was relentless (as is his nature) with constant nagging and teasing, and then one day sat me down to talk about standing up for myself at school if other students laugh at me.
"Don't worry," I said to my dad, "the only one who makes fun of me, is you."
He laughed, and explained that he was merely "preparing" me for the worst, so that I would be able to deal with it at school.
Part of me thinks he's an asshole, part of me thinks he's the best dad ever, and part of me realizes that he may actually be the reason I was able to divert any trouble.
He taught me to laugh at myself from an early age, and it's a lesson I cherish to this day.
No comments:
Post a Comment