I’m going to talk
about a personal experience of mine, but bear with me; I will relate it to
writing.
I spent two weeks
without one of my front teeth, and not when I was five or six where almost
every kid has some gaps in their smiles.
I was a tad bit older.
When I was thirteen
I ran into a boy playing baseball and my front tooth fell out completely. A dentist was able to put it back in, and it
lasted for about ten years.
When I was about twenty-three, I had to have it extracted, and I wore a flipper (tooth hanging off of a retainer) while waiting for a more permanent solution. I really wanted to get an implant (fake tooth imbedded in the bone) but I didn’t have the bone density in that region to support the implant, so I had a bone graft.
When I was about twenty-three, I had to have it extracted, and I wore a flipper (tooth hanging off of a retainer) while waiting for a more permanent solution. I really wanted to get an implant (fake tooth imbedded in the bone) but I didn’t have the bone density in that region to support the implant, so I had a bone graft.
Once the bone graft
was done, the surgeon told me that I couldn’t wear my flipper for two weeks. I’d just gone through a painful procedure and
spent well over a thousand dollars for it (insurance doesn’t cover this), so I
didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardize the graft.
My initial reaction was to hide away at home until I could wear my flipper again, but I couldn’t take two weeks off from work. I had to go on with my life toothless.
My initial reaction was to hide away at home until I could wear my flipper again, but I couldn’t take two weeks off from work. I had to go on with my life toothless.
Maybe this sounds
shallow, but a smile is an important part of how we relate to other people, and
people in this day and age aren’t used to seeing a gappy smile from anyone over
the age of eight.
The people who knew
me were awesome about it, my friends, my family, my husband, and lab mates
(coworkers). They understood the
situation. They knew and loved me, and
honestly didn’t treat me any differently.
I was still the same person.
But strangers treated me very different.
But strangers treated me very different.
I was in grad school
at the time, and I remember an undergrad wandering into our lab, where I was
the only one working, and asking me where the girls’ bathroom was. I didn’t want to answer, but there was no
one else around, so I angled my head down trying to hide my missing tooth, but I didn't do a very good job at hiding it, and the moment she saw the gap, she backed
up like I was diseased and said, “Never mind.”
She could not get away from me fast enough.
It’s almost funny now, but at the time it was pretty hurtful that she found me so revolting, because of something that was beyond my control.
Not everyone's reaction was that tactless, but every stranger would at least flinch when they realized I was missing a tooth. It was hard to get used to.
Being toothless
quickly changed me. I kept my head down
and didn’t make eye contact with strangers.
I didn’t smile or talk if I could help it. And when I had to talk even to my friends and
lab mates, I would angle my head down trying to hide my toothless gap.
I made my husband order for me at restaurants which he hated, and the fact that I wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone made the waitresses look at my very sweet husband like he was some sort of wife beater who had me cowering in fear. I felt bad about making my husband feel that way, but I just didn’t want to talk to anyone and see their reaction. I didn’t want to feel like I was repulsive.
I made my husband order for me at restaurants which he hated, and the fact that I wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone made the waitresses look at my very sweet husband like he was some sort of wife beater who had me cowering in fear. I felt bad about making my husband feel that way, but I just didn’t want to talk to anyone and see their reaction. I didn’t want to feel like I was repulsive.
Soon my two weeks
were up, and I was so happy to be able to wear my flipper again. Everything returned to normal, but the
experience was interesting. I am glad
that I didn’t just hide at home for those two weeks because now I know how it
feels to toothless, to be marred in a small way and how people treated me
because of it.
We all have these
little life experiences good or bad, and they are gems for us to draw upon when
we are creating characters and scenes.
And we can extrapolate these experiences to imagine how it would feel to
do something we have never done before.
All of those experiences that make us who we are gives our stories an authenticity. No one has lived exactly what you have lived, and no one will write the stories that you will write.
All of those experiences that make us who we are gives our stories an authenticity. No one has lived exactly what you have lived, and no one will write the stories that you will write.
I know sometimes we
writers can get obsessive about writing.
Right now, I’m feeling really motivated to get my novel out there in the
world, and it is tempting to flake on all my personal responsibilities and
shove in movies for the kids, and just edit all day long. I can see how easily a writer can lose
themselves in their writing, and forgo the real world for imaginary ones.
I’ve heard the advice
that to make it as a writer you need to write, write, write, and read, read,
read, and certainly doing those things is very helpful. But I would like to add that you also need to
live. Those life experiences (like being
toothless) are priceless.
So get out there and
experience life, it will only make your writing stronger.
Oh and be nice to
toothless people. Look them in the eye and
treat them like a human being because that is what they are.
~MaryAnn
