The Great Dental Dilemma

I never liked my front teeth as a young adult. 

They’d spent most of my life trying to occupy the same piece of real estate, in one part of my mouth and leaving gaps in another.

For years I perfected the closed-mouth smile. Lips pressed together just enough to suggest you’re happy without revealing what’s happening behind them.

For years, I convinced myself it didn’t matter.

“They’re only teeth,” I’d say whenever someone suggested braces. “There are far more important things to spend money on.”

And I genuinely believed it.

Until one afternoon at work.

I wasn’t eavesdropping. I was walking back from making a cup of tea when I heard two colleagues talking in the corridor.

“Who’s going to represent us in the promotional photos?” one asked.

“What about Rejoice?” the other replied.

There was a brief silence.

“I’m not sure,” came the hesitant response. “She’s brilliant… but…”

The sentence hung in the air.

“But what?”

“I don’t think she’d be comfortable. She never really smiles in photos.”

I froze.

They weren’t being cruel. They were trying to solve a practical problem. Yet, in that moment, I realised something I’d spent years pretending wasn’t true. My teeth weren’t just affecting how I smiled; they were affecting opportunities I hadn’t even known I’d been missing.

I walked away before they saw me, clutching my mug far more tightly than necessary.

That evening, I looked up orthodontists.

Within a few weeks, I’d booked a consultation.

For the first time, the cost seemed less painful than wondering how many more moments like that were passing me by.

Nobody tells you that braces aren’t just an investment in your teeth. They’re an investment in pain, patience and the ability to survive on soft food every time they’re tightened.

The financial commitment was eye-watering. Then there were the monthly appointments where the orthodontist would cheerfully say, “This might feel a little tight,” moments before my entire jaw made me question every life decision I’d ever made.

Still, I convinced myself it would all be worth it.

Years later I learned something that made me laugh.

In parts of the Western Cape in South Africa, particularly within Cape Flats culture, a gap between the front teeth isn’t something everyone tries to get rid of. Quite the opposite. It’s celebrated.

People even have a name for it.

The Passion Gap

I’d spent years trying to move my teeth together while discovering there are people who intentionally create the very thing I’d been paying to avoid.

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

What amused me even more was discovering that some people complete the look with removable dentures, gold inserts or decorative grills. Imagine that.

While I was handing over thousands of pounds to an orthodontist, someone else was expressing their personality with a bit of gold and a confident smile.

I couldn’t help comparing the two approaches.

Mine involved months of appointments, elastic bands, dental wax and carefully navigating every meal as though I were handling unexploded device.

Theirs looked far more relaxed.

And, if I’m honest, considerably cooler.

I recalled the days I would sit front of the mirror, carefully threading floss through enough metal to build a small bridge, and now wondering whether I’d chosen the expensive route simply because it was the one I’d always assumed was “right.”

It’s funny how often that happens in life.

We spend years chasing what everyone else says we’re supposed to want without stopping to ask whether someone, somewhere, has found a completely different way of looking at the same thing.

Each time I see some flash a braceful smile I can’t help but think of my younger self and the phrase “Passion Gap.”

Mostly because I can’t help wondering, if I’d heard about it a few years earlier, my bank account might be healthier… and I might have been pricing up a gold grill instead of another orthodontist appointment.