Shooting the Elephant

I love that metaphorical idiom of the proverbial ‘elephant in the room’ – the large presence of something obvious that no one wants to discuss. It can be anything: a political issue, a negative possibility of a circumstance, a well-known secret, or anything we don’t want to face. I have my own personal elephant that I’ve been maneuvering around for about 25 years. I haven’t named it, which is odd because I even have a name for that one stubborn hair on my chin that keeps coming back (that’s Ernie). It’s because I haven’t named it that I know it’s an elephant; it would only need a name if I talked about it – not that I really talk about my chin hair; it’s more of an acknowledgment. Hi, Ernie. Bye, Ernie!

My own elephant has to do with my smile – or, rather, lack of it. I have bad teeth. That may not seem like much to you, but it is to me – and I’ve only realized just how much the closer I come to getting it all taken care of.

My parents had dental issues, and it looked like their four children escaped the worst (barring braces for half of us). Then I got pregnant.

Pregnancy does wonderful things to a woman’s body. Sometimes I wonder how I still even like my daughters after what I’ve gone through with pregnancy, and the visible reminders that I have had children. But that’s another blog. And I do kind of like my kids in spite of it.

Anyway, during my first pregnancy my gums started bleeding, causing problems for my teeth at the gumline. I was 7 months along when my first tooth literally crumbled. It’s gone downhill since then.

There are two divisions in dentistry that fuck the average person, whatever his insurance: necessary vs. cosmetic dentistry. The average person is able to fix what is painful, but not what is broken. Sort of like what they do to roads; fill the potholes and the lines, and the roads end up somewhat functional, but looking like shit. And the problems areas continue to get worse. They’re the same. I’ve probably spent as much money on Anbesol, ibuprofen, and specialty toothpaste that any city or town has spent on road repairs - with the same aesthetic results.

Basically, I don’t smile anymore. I do, but not with my mouth open. I also don’t wear lipstick. I watch how I speak, how I face people, and how I wear my hair. In a previous blog about cutting my hair, I admitted to hiding behind my hair but didn’t mention the elephant, and how much cutting my hair affected my ability to hide it. That was bigger than I cared to admit. I'm quite a ham, too; I've even toned that down quite a bit (you can only make so many different faces with your mouth closed).

I keep my mouth shut more.

(Even I just laughed at that.)

Okay, I never keep my mouth shut; it’s just not open as much when it is.

Now what I just said kind of sums up what I’m getting at here, but I’m still going to explain further.

I know that if I’ve been held back by anything in my life, it’s been of my own doing. I let my insecurities get in the way of my writing and many other things and spent many years trying to get out of my own way.

My lack of a smile has gotten in my way, too – or I’ve allowed it to prevent me from doing or being, or going after certain things. We know that ‘a woman’s smile’ is the subject of many songs, poems, or just statements of love. What is it they say that can light up a room? Hmmm…. And what is it that can be used to describe social or educational status? Or a sign of drug use?

I meet new people every day. Every single day. And I know they see the elephant.

Honestly, I sometimes want to cry when I look back at pictures over the years; how I once would smile, then almost smile, then not. I see now that I look the same in all of my recent ones (I know how to stage; head down, keep this side visible – where’s the hair?- fuck it; just keep your mouth shut.)

Is this just all about vanity? For someone who believed herself to have a shit-ton of insecurity, she sure is vain, isn’t she? But we all have our hang-ups, right?

While I knew what I didn’t do anymore because of this situation (sing in public, go back into media of any kind outside of the writing I finally convinced myself I had to do, etc.), I didn’t really know how much further it went – until four years ago, when I started to fix it.

Four years ago I had a good job that made me happy on so many levels. I was a copywriter, so I was paid to write (I could take myself seriously), I worked from home (I was around, so my kids would not forget what I looked like), and I was beginning to make enough money to handle the cosmetic side of my dental issues.

Cosmetic. Bullshit. It goes so much further than that. I get migraine headaches, and a number of years ago they got out of control enough that they were affecting my ability to work and I had to seek some serious medical help. I have seasonal allergies, and there was one medication that was not covered by my insurance. My neurologist officially determined that my allergies were a migraine-trigger, and the doctor managed to get the allergy medication covered by my insurance as a migraine medication. I wonder if I went to a psychiatrist and he determined that my dental problems were really fucking up my head and could get me cosmetic dentistry covered by my insurance as a head-med?

(I can dream, can’t I?)

I’ll never forget that first appointment I had with the dentist (after I called and warned them how sensitive I was about the subject and asked them to make sure to watch what they said to me. I really did that.) I left his office on such a high – I was so excited about being able to smile again.

There’s serious irony there; I was looking forward to smiling again, when in actuality I smile a lot. Even more ironic was one thought I immediately shouted in my head: I’m going to be UNSTOPPABLE!

That thought stopped me in my tracks (pun intended). While I could admit the ‘obvious’ things I didn’t do anymore (lipstick, hair, video, etc.), I still believed that I put myself out there and didn’t let this totally get in my way – but if I was all of a sudden believing this will open up the world for me, then I have.

Well, that was a slap in the face. And I found myself struggling to acknowledge how much more I’d gotten in my own way.

I got a bigger slap just two months later, when the company I worked for dissolved the writing department and I was let go. And so went the ability to pay for dental work.

I felt the world close its doors. That is how I felt.

And then I started kicking myself while I was down. What the fuck is wrong with you? You really consider this a problem? What? Is this life or death?

I said other things, but they’re pretty nasty and I’m sure my mother would say I’ve cursed enough here.

This is what I meant when I said earlier that I was keeping my mouth shut but not; there are two sides to everything, but it’s never just either/or – it’s both. Like the description of people seeing things as black or white, one or the other, it’s never one or the other. It is always both, because one cannot be seen without the other.

I say I’ll get my smile back as if I’d lost it, but I still smile a lot anyway. I still get very happy. I say not having my smile has held me back, but I’ve still moved forward. Which is it?

I know that many people that know me think that I have no filter or boundaries and will talk about the most personal subjects as if I’m talking about the weather. To a point that is true, but only because what we may consider to be deeply personal is different from one person to the next. There are not many that I have talked about this with, and I’ve only just started being open about it, even though I know that every person I’ve spoken with face to face has seen my elephant.

Why am I talking about it now? There are a number of reasons; part of it has to do with this idea of a need for a bizarre sense of fairness in what I publish – I write my about strong opinions that may not be favorable to one idea or another, and to avoid feeling like some kind of a fraud I have to be open about myself: if I’m going to have the gall to point out a problem that needs to be fixed in any way, I have to admit that I’m aware of my own and willing to try to fix that, too. It’s a little hard to explain, but I know why I do what I do.

Another reason I’m able to talk about this more is because I’m once again in the process of getting my smile fixed, and if things go as planned it will all be finished exactly one month from today, the day before my 51^st birthday. Nothing exposes an elephant more than its disappearance.

Also, too: this whole situation has taught me that things don’t have to be ‘perfect’ to be good. Like I don’t need to have a stay-at-home job to be able to write, a large house to have a home, money to simply enjoy myself, I don’t need a perfect smile to be able to smile. That is not the beginning or cause of any happiness I have, it is only a symptom of it. I had to get this out now, to prove to myself that I learned it before all was said and done, and that I believe it.

That being said, and because it’s always both and not either/or, I am SO looking forward to this change  -while still knowing I don’t need it.

I’m going to wear lipstick all the time, to make up for all the times I felt I couldn’t. I’ll have celebratory shades and one signature shade, and won’t go anywhere or do anything without wearing it. I’ll have a lipstick on my nightstand that I will put on before I get up to check on the noise that I hear in the middle of the night, even if I feel I’m going to get myself killed. Hey, I’ll be wearing lipstick!

This is probably a good time to warn y’all, too: I’ll probably become very obnoxious. Probably? As if I’m not already? I’m going to be SMILING at everything, and making the faces I used to make at people when I felt comfortable doing so. I will NEVER keep my mouth shut.

(Hopefully, after a while it will kind of level off.)

I will be unstoppable – but that’s because I already have that in me.