Gabriela Santos ’24
Finding Security Through Uncertainty
The summer before fifth grade brings memories of friendship and of the dentist’s drill. I had a large overbite that concealed my bottom row of teeth, and the teeth that were not jagged wanted to retreat back into my gums. The dentist assured my mother that everything would go smoothly even though I was only ten years old and one of the youngest patients he had worked on with braces. While my mother chatted away with the receptionist, I was staring into the small mirror by the desk, smiling on and off, envisioning what I would look like.
Like many others, I was excited to get braces. Facing the future with a perfect smile was promising, but in truth, the idea of being one of two kids to have braces in our grade excited me more. Despite having a few close friends and my Girl Scout gal-pals, I was by no means popular; socializing with those outside my friend group was brand new territory. Making new friends was also nerve-wracking, as I had formed my closest friendships in the same Girl Scout troop I’d joined in Kindergarten. Braces seemed like a promising conversation starter, and I was going to need help making friends in my new fifth grade class.
That summer was bittersweet. Endless days spent with my two best friends, Amanda and Alyssa, were filled with laughter and adventure. I felt the closest I’d ever been to them. But in the back of my mind was the reality that I’d be starting fifth grade without them. We had received the names of our fifth grade teachers at the end of the school year and it turned out that Amanda, Alyssa and all of my fellow Girl Scouts were in classes together, while I would be alone. I cried to my mother that day, which, looking back, seems a bit dramatic. To a ten year old girl, it was the end of the world. Even while I was enjoying eating Popsicles in my driveway with Amanda and Alyssa that summer, I couldn’t forget that everything was going to be different in a few weeks. Would they leave me in the dust for the new friends they would make in class? The thought of my best friends bonding with other children over Zhu Zhu Pets haunted me as I started the new school year. Surely they would find more exciting friends than me.
While some things were changing with school, others were changing with my mouth. I spent the day following my dentist appointment staring at my strange metallic smile in the mirror, between episodes of spitting up blood. My excitement faded as I realized that after showing my friends and family my “new” smile, all I was left with was soreness and a lisp. It seemed that I had over-estimated my “cool factor” when the chatter around my braces went away after a few days and I started to hate how I looked with my braces. What was all of the pain for if popularity and bragging rights had no longevity? The kids in my new class liked talking to me on the first day about them and hearing all about how I got to eat ice cream for dinner, but the next day no one talked about it. And then it hit me: I was going to be stuck with metal poking at my gums and cheeks for the next two years, and no one cared about my braces anymore. I felt lied to, as my mother assured me that when it was all over the pain would be worth it and I would be left with a smile I loved. Easy for her to say, her confidence was not affected, and she wasn’t the one having to live with braces waiting for the unknown day when they would be removed. Now all I was left with was a sore mouth, an ugly smile and finding a new way to make friends.
*
My fifth-grade class was filled with kids I’d known since Kindergarten but had only socialized with in class reading groups. I soon realized that thirty minutes of recess was not enough time to discuss six hours of class experiences in between trading Silly Bands. My mother advised me to get to know other kids by finding commonalities, and she assured me that everyone would want to be my friend. But while my mom couldn’t find a reason why anyone wouldn’t like me, doubts swarmed my thoughts. I knew I was weird, my mom didn’t. I still slept with my Winnie the Pooh stuffed animal, I brought about a hundred glitter pens with me to school to draw during class, and I had a reputation for talking way too much, which my teachers had kindly pointed out by giving me the nickname “Gabbing Gaby” since the first grade. I knew that in comparison to the “popular” girls in my class, I was weird and lame. When everyone is trying to be best friends with them, why would anyone bother to be friends with me? Everyone already formed friend groups years ago and no one was looking for a new addition. Knowing that my friends were all sitting at the same table and laughing in their class while I sat silently at mine didn’t lift my spirits either.
*
A few weeks into the school year, my mother could tell I was upset by both my teeth and distance from my friends, and she handed me a book she’d found to cheer me up, Smile by Raina Telgemeier. It was a graphic novel that followed the life of the author, Raina, navigating friendships and middle school while dealing with braces and dental work. I expected to like the book from the start, knowing Smile’s popularity amongst children my age, and a comic style novel appealed to my artistic interests right off the bat. What I hadn’t expected was to find solace and reassurance in Raina’s story and learn I was not alone.
Raina, the main character of Smile, undergoes dental work and receives braces after an accident at a Girl Scout meeting that knocks out her two front teeth. She expresses worry surrounding her new look and describes an unclear path to recovering her smile, as it feels like all of the pain she is going through is for nothing. Shortly after her procedure, Raina enters middle school, where the fears of acceptance by her peers and the strain of her prior close friendships cause doubt in her identity and self-expression. Raina finds security in her mother, who helps her accept her new image and personality, while leaning the only path to social acceptance is self-acceptance.
My story closely aligns with Raina’s, and I identified with her. Raina embodied my own physical and social insecurities. I first found comfort in viewing what seemed like my own life through another lens, and I found it therapeutic; feelings of being alone, and the only one who understands what you’re going through, dissipate when you are presented with a character you see yourself within. A satisfying resolution and happy ending for the main character can also increase one’s hopefulness for the future. Many of the doubts I had regarding getting braces and starting the fifth grade were a product of loneliness, as I felt I had no one who understood my perspective to offer me support and solutions to my problems. Smile felt like someone had heard my cry for help and wrote me a survival guide to the fifth grade, offering Raina’s path to happiness and self-acceptance as both the key to resolving my problems and a light at the end of the tunnel. However, while Raina became a shoulder to lean on for my ten year old self, she taught me that I can’t necessarily do it by myself.
Raina’s relationship with her mother, and her decision to ask for help despite feeling her mother didn’t understand or validate her doubts, allowed her to put both her dental journey and social problems into perspective. I found strength in myself to be okay with my braces and how I looked and to welcome new friendships, but it didn’t come without the support of my mother. My mother had minimized my fears surrounding the longevity of my braces, and by assuring me it was only temporary and offering insight into how many other people have had braces, I was able to turn something I thought was the end of the world into something much more feasible and easy to get through. By turning to someone older and more grounded, I learned that even when things feel larger than you can handle, they are minute in the grand scheme. At only ten years old, there were not many pressing issues weighing down on me so when I had to get braces and start school without my best friends I felt helpless. My mother was able to redefine for me the severity of my situation, much like Raina’s mother did for her, by bringing me back to reality in a sense. Smile is a coming of age novel that validates the doubts and concerns of adolescents while de-escalating overwhelming feelings of helplessness.
While some parts of the book offered reassurance and hope, others offered lessons of self-acceptance, and became lasting lightbulb moments. When Raina’s mother assures her that other children have devices that fix their bodies and health, Raina responds, “Well, maybe someone should start talking about it! Maybe it would make us feel less like freaks.” I easily overlooked that line the first time I read Smile, but after reading the novel before bed dozens of times over, I found myself coming back to it. My fears surrounding the start of fifth grade stemmed from the idea of starting over with friendships, and facing the fact I would always need to be able to socialize with new people. The thought of having to meet someone and share things about yourself that make you vulnerable terrified me. But the things that I perceived as weird about myself were my interests, and they contributed to my personality. My insecurities about others rejecting me stemmed from the idea that no one enjoyed what I enjoyed, and the fear that people would look down on me. Raina’s words clicked and became my own lightbulb moment. I felt like a freak because no one, especially me, wanted to talk about the things we were insecure about. I felt weird because I slept with a stuffed animal I’d had since birth, when the idea of children having comfort or security items is extremely common. Amanda had a security blanket, so why wouldn’t it be possible that other kids in my new class had something like that? The more I read through Raina and her mother’s words, the more I felt comforted. All of my fifth-grade classmates and I had interests or attributes that made us feel weird or like freaks. But if we felt comfortable enough to share them with others, the bubble of insecurity would pop.
As an adult, I interpret Raina’s words in a broader sense. We all have something that makes us feel different or alienated, and there is often a concealed struggle beneath the surface. Maybe it’s mental health issues, physical insecurity, an uncommon interest, or even headgear, in Raina’s case. Today, it’s extremely common to feel ashamed or hide qualities about ourselves that make us vulnerable or can allow scrutiny. Teenagers strive to align with the physical standards and ideal personality attributes that have been set by society and the media. But it’s when we discuss our insecurities in the open that they become less stigmatized and we feel less alone. When we proudly share the things that we’ve believed make us less “ideal”, the judgement we may receive weakens, and becomes unsubstantial. No one is completely alike, and there is nothing we should feel like we need to hide or abandon to conform with societal standards or to be accepted. Smile encouraged self love and set me down a path of embracing the things that make me me, and it is something I’ve carried through every friendship, relationship, and hurdle I’ve faced since.
Finding a character in Raina Telgmeier’s Smile who so closely reflected me and who gave me the strength to persevere through the challenges of fifth grade and my dental journey helped me find myself again, and to feel secure in my physical and social life. I found a friend and a mirror within Raina, and hold the memories of reading this book on the couch with my mother, finding myself again, near to my heart. And while the two years I was supposed to have braces turned into four and half slow years, I learned my mother was right, as I truly could not love the smile I have now more.