The Best Self-Love? Smile.

A teacher said the first thing you should do each morning before getting out of bed is smile, and it will cure your depression.

I was not depressed so I did not listen to this advice, but for some reason it stuck in my head. I never much liked the way I looked, but one thing always boosted my confidence on the way out the door. Whenever I finished getting ready for a fun night out that I was excited for, I’d throw one last glance at myself and smile before turning out the bathroom light, ready to go.

So I decided to do a little experiment, and see if my confidence would increase if I just smiled at myself every day in the mirror.

A meant-to-be experiment soon turned into a habit, and I quickly found myself smiling every time I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, realizing I was always happy to see me.

I never much liked my smile, since my teeth have been messed up since I was a baby. When my braces finally came off, I liked it a bit more, but I still was self-conscious about it and often hid my teeth when I smiled. I don't have the same amount of teeth as most people-- the small teeth between my front teeth and canines are not there-- and I've always been self-conscious about this. When I got braces, they shaved down my canines and pulled them in next to my front teeth to make more space for my molars to come in, so now it looks like I don't have canines. Basically, my smile doesn't look the same as everybody else's, which of course used to mean I didn't like it. But I finally realized that really, everyone's smile is different, and nobody noticed what was "wrong" with mine. It was senior year of high school, and somehow we started talking about getting wisdom teeth pulled. I mentioned that I didn't have wisdom teeth to begin with, so I didn't have to get them pulled, and everyone was amazed. I went on to explain that I didn't even have all the standard teeth, and one friend of mine began announcing to everyone that I am the superior human because I was born without the useless small teeth that humans don't even use anymore. In most people's mouths, these teeth are shorter than those beside them, so they don't even get used to chew food. But I am not superior unfortunately, because for aesthetics sake, my canines have been sawed down by some dental instrument, defeating their intended purpose, leaving me inferior once again.

Aside from my teeth being different, I apparently also have a small mouth-- something dentists love to complain about. I got a new dentist last year, and on my first visit, she was puzzled by my teeth. When I eventually explained the whole process of turning my canines into smaller flat teeth, she asked who my orthodontist was, saying, "wow, he did a really good job with what he was given," as if my mouth were a hopeless case, but he was a miracle worker. She also mentioned that my mouth was hard to work on, and I knowingly asked, "because it's small?" to which she responded, "well, yes, but also your teeth are just really short, so there's not much room to work." What? More wrong with my stupid teeth? Yes, now I've noticed that my teeth really are very short compared to other peoples', which I've been realizing lately, just as I always notice when someone has really sharp canines (if only I still did), and especially when someone has a big mouth (superior for eating sandwiches).

And I've always loved crow's feet ever since I was a child. I mentioned it once, to my mom-- I had thought that crow's feet were like dimples: some people have them when they smile, and other people don't. So when I told my mom I was jealous of the people who have crinkles beside their eyes when they smile, she laughed and said, "don't worry, you'll have them eventually," explaining that they are really just wrinkles, and that when I finally get them, I won't want them anymore because I will feel old.

Some people, I've noticed, smile primarily with their mouth, while others smile primarily with their eyes. On some special occasions, I've met some people who smile primarily with their full face, and I am unsure where to look because it is all best to look at-- teeth, eyes, wrinkles. I am a sucker for the wrinkled paper bag face, and I'm a little jealous of the people who smile this way.

When I started the habit of smiling at myself in the mirror, I started smiling a lot more overall. I started lo actually like pictures of myself, because they actually looked like the me I saw in the mirror every day. It wasn't because I thought I was pretty or I was something special, it was only because I looked like me, and no matter how I looked that day, I was happy to see me.

Sometimes I wonder what good self-image actually looks like. Am I supposed to think I'm beautiful, or is that vain? Certainly it's not healthy to think you are ugly. Is it good enough to be content with how I look, to think, "this is what I look like, and I like me, so I am happy with how I look,"?

I do not think I'm pretty, although there are days that I do. And I do not think I'm ugly either, although there are days that I feel like I am. I look like me--someone I am comfortable with-- so I am comfortable with how I look.

Lately, I've been miserable, and I've forgotten to throw myself a smile in the mirror on my way out the door. One thing I've figured out since starting this is that it is almost always a good idea to smile at yourself in the mirror-- the only time you shouldn't is when you are crying. When you are crying, you are best to avoid mirrors at all, but if the only way you can brush your teeth requires seeing yourself in the mirror, you should look in your own sad eyes and let all the pieces of yourself agree that you are sad, if only for a moment. And now that I know all the versions of my smile-- the sad, the happy, the excited, the proud, the nervous, the scared, the bittersweet, the joyous-- now I can recognize how I felt when a picture was taken, even if I don't remember when it was captured, and that is probably my favorite outcome of this meant-to-be experiment.

Today, I finally smiled ay reflection, and I noticed three small lines at the corner of my eye. I sighed, and thought, "I'm getting old," but maybe tomorrow, I will remember that it is beautiful.