If you’ve ever eaten chicken from a blender before, we’re going to get along swimmingly. Theoretically it should just taste the same right? I suppose it does, but smoothies for dinner should never, ever, ever involve meat. “Who would eat that?” you ask, and most of the time, the answer is nobody.
But I had braces, a thing that changed me both mentally and dentally. “Why does a middle schooler go to Binghamton?” you may also ask. But that’s just the thing. I’m not. I am 19 years old and on Feb. 10, I finally broke free from my chains. Both the physical ones on my teeth, and the spiritual ones on my soul.
I always knew I would need braces. So did my parents. But when your mom and dad planned for you to have your Bat Mitzvah at the end of 8th grade, you become accustomed to a lifestyle of “better late than never.” Now, I’m grateful — I’m very lucky to have had braces, and parents who care for me. They did, however, decide to pop out two random children right during my formative years. So yeah, my teeth weren’t a priority when there was a recently developed fetus in the house.
I got my braces during my senior year of high school, right before winter break. After my day at the orthodontist, I slowly realized that while I was ready, my mouth was not. That shit hurts. My teeth were sore, my mouth was full of cuts. I couldn’t eat anything. During dinner, my mom decided to finally use the Magic Bullet we had to its fullest abilities. I (somewhat) enjoyed a chicken smoothie, all while crying and lamenting over my woeful near future.
That night, I went to a restaurant with my friend, where I ordered soup. The worst part of it all was that it hurt to talk. I love to talk, and I felt silenced by the world around me. But worst of all, I felt as if I was silencing myself. I started a sentence, only to be quickly halted by pain. I was weak.
I slowly became used to the routine wire tightening and self-hatred. I had enough wax in my mouth to be a Hanukkah candle. The braces were an extension of my teeth, but mostly, an extension of who I was. People didn’t notice due to my habit of smiling with my mouth closed and my consistent bad attitude. But I knew. I always knew they were there.
After two years of wires and whining, brackets and bitching, my time to shine had finally arrived. I found out the date: Feb. 10. Was I going to miss three classes? Yes. Did I care? Not at all. For a hot second, I thought I was going to have to reschedule my appointment, and I cried. Real baby tears, I cried.
The day had arrived and I took the first bus out of Binghamton and to the promised land, also known as my orthodontist’s office, in the ultra-Orthodox Jewish neighborhood of Kiryas Joel. I bounded in with a spring in my step. Today was my day, Dr. Weiss. I got ready for my big moment. As they pulled each small box out, I felt a sense of rebirth. This is my time to shine, world! Look out, Odeya is here! I was mostly excited for the part where I transform into a beautiful swan, and Freddie Prinze Jr. is standing at the end of the steps waiting to take me to prom. I was slightly confused as to where this staircase would be and I was worried about my lack of prom dress, but that would all be figured out later, I suppose.
So, what’s the point of this story? First off, everyone does things in their own time. Whether you are 12, 22 or even older, you have to take care of yourself, no matter how embarrassed you might feel. Now on the other side of that, don’t judge people for their teeth problems, or any problems for that matter … Also, if you can, get Invisalign.
I, personally, am onto the retainer stage of my life. I’m excited. I’m empowered. I’m ready. (Let’s ignore the fact that I lost it already. Twice.) My advice for the student body is this. If you have braces, embrace them. If you have a retainer, wear it. If you had braces, then thank your parents for being on top of their stuff. But mostly, screw what everyone else thinks. Do what you need to do to, because straight teeth are waiting on the other side.