It started as a 45th birthday present-- to myself. I "gave" me braces, on my teeth-- a full set of metal for my pearly whites. I always hated my crooked front teeth and decided it was high time I did something about it.
It's the best thing I ever did for myself; I only wish I'd done it years earlier.
My Orthodontist, Doctor Jay, has a beautiful Beverly Hills office with lots of frosted glass and attractive dental assistants for his adult patients. But every now and then, things get backed up and I find myself in the "boys room" surrounded by enough sports memorabilia to fill a school gymnasium. Every inch of the walls are covered with shirts, jerseys, hockey sticks, basketballs, baseballs, posters and pendants-- literally all the sports bells and whistles you can imagine.
I'm out of my element in the "boys room". Sports is not my thing, neither are adolescent and teenage boys with metal-mouths who look at me like I'm the old dog on the porch.
I much prefer the "girls room" when the office is over booked. It's filled with about 200 hot pink and purple lava lamps. For the morning appointments, the lamps are just warming up and move as slow as I do-- but by the afternoon appointments the lava is like flowing, like totally awesome, and like way cool for sure. In the girls' room I don't have to worry about being the old dog-- Teenage girls don't even notice me or my braces.
Regardless of which room I'm in at the dentist, there is not a snowball's chance in hell I would have been brave enough to wear braces as a teenager-- if they'd been an option for me. The teen years were tough! The teen years with a full mouth of metal-- like back in my day-- NEVER. I'd have run away from home first. But as a forty-something, my confidence was, in fact, strong enough to handle to jokes and wise cracks that accompanied all my metal. At 50, check ups with my retainer are a walk in the park.
Like I said, it's the best thing I ever did. Now if only a facelift was as simple.
Welcome to TheFiftyFactor.com - Joanna