Smiling Proudly

*** Trigger warnings: Family Violence, Facial Injury, Self-Image Issues

When I was 14 (2006), only about half of my friends had cell phones. And none of them had unlimited texting (no one did). I sort of had a cell phone, but it was mostly for emergencies that never happened. I could use it on the weekends to talk to friends long-distance if I wanted to. That's just the way poor people did it back then. After 9 pm during the week, and all weekends were free talk time minutes, and long-distance calling was included in your plan. 

I had several friends and family members who lived out of our local area that I would typically write letters to but now have access to actually hear their voices! I was so excited and blessed to have this opportunity! My mom was finally being cool and let me have a little freedom. As a teenager about to enter into high school, it felt liberating.  

Let me back up a bit and insert some important information. At this time in my life, we had lived in a new city for about a year. My mom, three brothers, and my mom's boyfriend moved there when my mom transferred with her job. My mom's boyfriend left us (that's a whole other story) and his cell phone that my mom paid for about 2 months before this event. So, she gave the leftover phone to me with rules and expectations. No texting, no calling during daytime since minutes were limited, and never give the number to someone she didn't personally know. I was allowed to take it to school, but it was supposed to be off. 

I respected the rules, or so I thought. I gave my number to some friends that my mom knew. They did not really care about the rules. They would text me during school, in the evenings, all the time. Their parents didn't limit them. They weren't stressed about the additional charges; they weren't a newly single mom with 4 kids she didn't want. There was one more problem. I called my friend in Kansas one night at 8:59 pm. I couldn't wait one more minute. We talked all night. We were still giggling at 5 am when my mom's alarm was going off. 

You know how bills work. You accumulate, they bill, you pay. I accumulated. They billed $600 more than my mom expected. I paid. 

I wasn't home when my mom got the bill. I was down the street at the park with a friend. She called me. That's not good. It's the middle of the day, and she is using minutes to call me? I answer, "Hello?" She says "Come home. Now," click. She was definitely not happy. Why was she mad? What could possibly have her upset on this sunny Friday afternoon? I did my chores, it was summer, so no homework; what did I do?

When I walked in, she was standing at the door and told my friend to leave. She told her "Don't come back for a while. Sara won't be available for the foreseeable future." I was scared. She held up the bill to my face, way too close for me to actually see it and demanded the cell phone. I handed it over. She yelled a lot about me abusing the phone and being ungrateful for what she struggles to provide for me. I understood why she was mad, the bill. But I didn't understand how it happened. I knew texting was expensive, but I didn't text, they did. And I only used one minute of daytime usage. Nope. That's not how it works. The phone call apparently had to start after 9 pm to count as a free call. So, all 8 hours I spent on the phone that night, and every incoming text was still being charged. I didn't know. 

I wasn't talking back. I wasn't arguing. I was trying to understand how it happened. I opened my mouth to try and explain, but as soon as I started talking, my mom threw the phone at me. It hit my mouth. At first, I couldn't believe the stinging pain I felt. I put my hand over my mouth, and when I did, I could feel it. My two front teeth were broken in half. My stomach dropped, and I couldn't focus on anything else. I started crying. My mom shouted, "Oh, stop being so dramatic, it's just a fat lip!" I felt so broken in that moment. I spit my teeth into my hand, and my mom's face dropped. 

It was a night and day flip in character. She started apologizing and crying. She cried harder than I did. She took me to the Emergency Room, even though she knew they couldn't do anything. She wanted to make sure she took every action she could. She scheduled a dentist appointment for the following Monday to have them fixed. She took me to the grocery store to get baby food and protein shakes. The nerve running through my teeth was exposed in both teeth. It was so sensitive. Even air was harsh on the exposed nerve. I didn't do much talking that weekend. 

I wasn't off the hook though. I was grounded until I repaid my mom for the bill. So, I got a summer job. I sold newspaper subscriptions door-to-door and was paid commission. I could make $2-$6 for every sale I made, depending on the package. It took me about 3 months to make $560, and the day before my 15th birthday, I begged my mom to unground me for the weekend as my birthday present, and she said, "Not until you've paid in full." I was so devastated. I just wanted to be a normal kid and hang out at the mall on my birthday. My friends all ended up pitching in all their money to pay off my mom. I felt equally blessed and ashamed.  

I wasn't mad at my mom, though. It was clearly an accident that she profusely apologized for, and I didn't think this was a true representation of who she was. She is a fierce woman who doesn't take shit from anyone, she is the smartest person I know, and she worked so hard to support us when we didn't make it easy. My mom was a fantastic role model from my point of view. She was my safe place. 

Over the next 3 years, I had issues with the crowns they put on my teeth. The first set were yellow compared to the rest of my teeth, and they were slightly crooked. That really fucked with my self-image. Not that crooked teeth are bad by any means (I actually have a small *thing* for them), but that wasn't my face I was looking at anymore, and I didn't know how to handle that. I just started faking closed smiles. There is only one picture of me that exists smiling with those teeth, and it's on display at my mom's house now. I know I've told her I hate it, but I don't know if she doesn't remember or just doesn't care. The second of set- one broke off in the middle of the night while I was sleeping and I swallowed it (I think), one fell out at school during PE, and another broke while I was eating pizza at a friend's house. My mom has since offered to pay to get a more permanent solution for me, but I am okay with what I have. I still have my negative feelings about my teeth, but I'm grateful that I have them. I'm grateful that I don't have to be embarrassed, and most people don't know they aren't real. They aren't pretty, but they function properly. I quite like my face the way it is now. It took time, but I made it.

Looking at this positively, I learned how to set a goal and put in the effort to achieve it; I developed a few sales skills, felt the loving support from my friends, took responsibility for my mistakes, and discovered a new fear of birds (they usually nest on porches, and are very territorial)! On the darker side of this situation I was shown that my safe person wasn’t always safe for me and that defending or explaining myself didn’t change the outcome (so why try?). Even in the negative messages, I try to remind myself that I don’t have to go through that again. By finding a new safe person, by removing myself from the people who hurt me (intentionally or not), I am controlling my path to lead elsewhere. I am surrounded by people who will come together to help me and will listen to what I have to say before resorting to violence. I encourage you to surround yourself with people who encourage you, listen to you, and respect you. Do you have a safe person? Why are they safe for you?