The tooth fairy (part I?)

So my latest thing has been a full-on tooth crisis. And by tooth-crisis, I mean a "OMG, my teeth have shifted and I totally look like a rabbit on crack now who desperately needs braces". Obviously, knowing me, there's someone to blame, and in this case, it's my work. Or better yet, my students. Yes. Honestly.

I've always had a thing with my teeth. I've had the dubious pleasure of having braces three times (the last time was in my early twenties), and ever since my braces came off the last time, to say I have been slightly obsessed with the look of my smile has been an understatement. I mean, who wouldn't be if they had gone from a 9mm overbite, then braces followed by a retainer, to a gap between their front teeth, followed by more braces, headgear, and a plastic retainer, to really big front teeth, to be followed by braces and then a bonded retainer? Any normal person would be slightly traumatized, and we all know that my neurosis beats that of a normal person by a mile. In the dark. With its eyes closed.

Seriously, my teeth were bad growing up. And so were all the different orthodontic treatments I got to try out. Let's just say that when I look at my childhood pictures, I can immediately tell when they were taken just by looking at the position of my teeth and/or type of braces I was wearing. As a highly self-conscious, geeky little kid with not a whole lot going for her as far as looks went, my teeth seemed to be the only thing I was able to fix, and so that became the focal point of my life. And, judging by my current teeth-inspired identity crisis, they still are.

After my braces came off the last time, I was tickled pink by how good my teeth looked. I even had the dentist glue a bonded retainer behind my front teeth, so I would never have to have braces again.  Well, fast forward a decade and a half later, and my teeth have shifted (and yes, the retainer is still bonded to my teeth, go figure). A little. And just two teeth really. But it's enough for me to notice, and too insignificant for anyone other than my one Dutch tooth-obsessed friend, to have any idea what I'm talking about.

But you know what? I usually don't care. I look in the mirror, realize one of my teeth has moved back just a hair, my front teeth have shifted just a little, and tell myself, oh well. That's how it's going to be, and if people don't like it, well, then it just sucks to be them.

For some reason, however, this attitude goes completely out the window whenever I'm back to teaching. And if you took a good luck at my students, I think you will understand why. My students are not only the product of some awesome orthodontic treatments, and thus have picture-perfect teeth, but they're also incredibly obsessed with the way they look. They can do their hair in ways I can only dream of, they own more clothes/shoes/purses in college than I have ever owned in my entire life, and they will use everything around them to check their reflection and make sure every strand of hair and brush of eye shadow is still in place, right down to spoons and iphones.

Surrounded by people who not only look like they walked off the fashion spread in Teen, Vogue, or Ebony, but who genuinely care about making sure they look that way, does little for the geeky teenager hiding inside of me.

So now I have a tooth crisis. I told my dentist, who laughed at me and told me I have awesome teeth. I told my parents who said my teeth were great, and I better not diss the tens of thousands of dollars they spent on them. And of course husband-dear just rolled his eyes. But still, people, a tooth crisis is difficult to get over. Especially when you love to smile and show all those pearly whites (like I do), only to realize you probably just looked like an overgrown rabbit. Now I've considered invisalign, but you know what? That would mean giving into the trend that looks are all that matter, and I'm not quite ready to that either (or part with several thousand dollars). I mean, I should be better than that, right?

Right?