THE DENTIST (2026)

I received a picture and text from my mama that said “loving this smile, thank you daughter for giving me my life back, love you”. 

For as long as I can remember she’s been wanting to get her teeth together, after years of neglect and all kinds of substance abuse things. At the end of 2025 I told her that I would pay for her to do her extractions and get the denture set that she’s been wanting. And the week of her 55th birthday, she has them. Glory. 

The same week, I was eating popcorn and bit down too hard and felt something crazy happen with one of my back teeth. WT entire F. Getting to the dentist has been at the bottom of my to-do list for a very long time. Avoidance. Fear. And honestly no foundation of this kind of self care. The kind that parents instill in their children from a young age. I had no one doing such a thing. And as I’ve gone throughout my adult life, fear has built and I have avoided it. I was pregnant the last time I made a visit but gratefully have never had any uncomfortable issues my entire life. No pain. Teeth have always been pretty straight. So, like so many other things in my life, I have managed in an avoidance and ‘thugging it out’ kind of way. 

Until now. I knew I had to make an appointment and I knew the check in would be layered. After a deep and pretty uncomfortable cleaning, I fearfully and embarrassingly listened to the woman dentist recite the long plan to get me back on track. 6 or so visits starting one week later and a few thousand dollars out of pocket. Making up a whole lot of time, but not too far gone, she promised. As I started to ask her questions about the various treatments, she told me to come into her office so she could further explain. As she broke everything down, I told her how ironic it was that I just paid for my mom to fix her entire mouth last week and now I find myself in here being ‘forced’ to take care of my own damn self. 10 minutes passed and I found myself telling my new dentist my life story. A complex story of childhood abandonment, familial addictions, split up siblings, moving away and getting myself through college to getting to NYC. She told me I was an angel and that I have a special soul. She told me that she was so impressed by me and couldn’t believe I had made it to where I am now. And that I should write a book. In such a warm and motherly way she said, don’t worry, I am going to help you get this situation together. And just like that, I agreed to her plan. Through the fear. 

As I walked back to my car, I almost started to cry. During a life of turbulence from doing and being without stable parents and family, I can’t ever recall standing too much in a victim space. But as I am deep in this therapy bag and childhood trauma exploration, I keep finding myself wanting to punch the air. Having to do the real and hard work of tuning into realities, of digging inside and facing all the many things that were not set up for me as a kid is so frustrating. Yes, I am a grown ass woman who has had all the opportunities to be in the dentist. Also, I should have been taught this growing up. I should have been taken care of in this way. I cannot imagine not having my kid at the dentist every 6 months for her check up. Ever.

But, redemption. 

I never thought I would be having a whole inner child moment at the dentist. Or that one of my best friends, who I call sister, would text me the day after my tooth situation and tell me that she has something similar happen with one of her back teeth. I didn’t plan on speaking to anyone about mine but here on a silver platter was someone so close to me in the same exact situation trying to navigate it at the exact same time. We now have one another to talk to and hold space for during the fear and layered steps to get ourselves together. As sisters. 

Healing shows up in the most insane ways and I will never not be grateful for how God moves in this life. May I never, ever not acknowledge it. 

SHANI