Excerpt from The Optimistic Food Addict (Fisanick): Lip-Tied
Chapter 1. Lip-Tied For my 40th birthday, my husband got me a gift I’d always wanted but could never afford. He paid for me to have the gap in my two front teeth fixed. With the advent of social media and selfies, the gap—about the thickness of a Susan B. Anthony dollar—became like a chasm to me; a dental Grand Canyon of sorts, which seemed to pull camera flashes to it. If I tilted my head a mere inch toward the light, the gap would fill with a shadow that stood in stark relief against my white, never cavitied smile. I’m sure it seemed extra large to me in part because of its meaning. I associated it with where I came from: a trailer park in West Virginia. The only people I knew with a gap in their teeth (other than the occasional high-profile David Lettermans or Lauren Huttons) were too poor to get their gaps fixed. I hated admitting that I held these beliefs, especially at 40, especially as an academic heavily invested in celebrating Appalachian culture. Although