Don’t get me wrong, I’m no Shane McGowan – but my teeth are something that have bothered me for many years. I’ve never had completely straight teeth, not since my one of my adult teeth decided to grow faster than its baby counterpart was ready leave the comfort of my mouth, and consequently, developed slightly wonky. A New Year’s Resolution that I’ve made for as many Januarys that I can remember is finally coming to fruition.
The reaction of people when I told them I’m getting braces has been either a) “Braces? But you don’t need braces” (usually uttered by someone with perfect gnashers) b) “I had braces when I was younger, you’ll be grand” or c) “Fair play to you” (complete with a raised eyebrow that says ‘I’d never bloody do it, though’).
I wouldn’t say that I’m scared about it – after all, I’ll probably only have it on for 6-7 months (it’s the 6 Month Braces programme, which merely straightens the front teeth for cosmetic appearances, rather than change the whole bite of your jaw), and at least they’ll be the clear type, rather than the dreaded train-track metal jobs. It’s more an apprehension, I suppose – seeing an adult with braces may be becoming more commonplace, but it’s still fairly unusual. I’m also slightly annoyed that my parents didn’t force me into having braces when I was younger, making my already excruciatingly awkward teenage years only marginally moreso.
But at the end of the day, I know the paranoia and potential pain will be worth it. I’m looking forward to being like the ones from Glee – their Hollywood smiles, that is, not their unnerving habit of randomly bursting into song – and not being worried about seeing my teeth in photos for the first time in my life. Brave? Stupid? Yeah, maybe it’s a bit of both.