This is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Asking for help doesn’t come easily to me. I’ve always taken pride in being able to take care of myself, but I’ve reached a point where I can’t do this alone anymore.

I’ve had dental issues for as long as I can remember. At the very young age of 4, metal caps were placed on my baby teeth to protect already damaged teeth and help my adult teeth grow in properly, but I was not taken regularly to the dentist and some of these teeth did not fall out. When I was twelve and we were able to visit the dentist again, I had braces put on, but due to financial limitations and inconsistent dental care, I wasn’t able to see a dentist regularly. Those braces ended up staying on for nearly six years, much longer than they ever should have. When I was finally able to pay to have them removed as an adult, the damage was extensive.

As I got older, the damage became impossible to ignore. I’ve experienced excruciating pain that sometimes keeps me from eating or sleeping. There are days when even talking or smiling feels uncomfortable. The pain isn’t constant, but when it comes, it can take over everything. It affects what I eat, how I socialize, and how I show up in my daily life. It’s exhausting physically, emotionally, and mentally. This isn’t just about appearance, it’s about being able to live without constant discomfort and fear of the next wave of pain.

Over the years, I’ve also developed deep dental anxiety and shame from painful experiences at the dentist, which made it even harder to stay consistent with care. The combination of fear, pain, and embarrassment has left me feeling stuck and trapped in a cycle I desperately want to break.

But what’s been even harder is the emotional weight of it all. Not feeling proud of my smile has affected so many parts of my life. I’ve learned to laugh with my hand in front of my mouth. I avoid smiling fully in photos. I think twice before talking or laughing freely around people I don’t know well. There’s always a voice in the back of my head wondering what others might think or assume about me when they see my teeth, even though I know this story is so much more than what it looks like on the surface.

I’m a kindergarten teacher, and I absolutely love what I do. My students bring me so much joy, and their curiosity and honesty are some of my favorite parts of teaching. But small children notice everything, and sometimes their innocent questions about my teeth catch me off guard. It’s one of the many hard parts of living with this smile, knowing they mean no harm, yet still feeling that familiar sting of shame and self-consciousness. Those moments are quiet reminders of how much this affects me every day, not just physically but emotionally too.

Over the past year, I’ve met with several dentists, asked endless questions, and done a lot of research. I’ve learned that the best long-term solution, the one that will finally allow me to have a healthy, functional smile, is a full restoration implant procedure. It’s a big step, both emotionally and financially, but it feels like the only way forward toward real healing.

The cost of the full procedure is around $35,000, which is overwhelming to take on alone.

It’s so hard for me to share this publicly. I’ve carried a lot of shame about my teeth for so long, and asking for help feels incredibly vulnerable. But I’m ready to reclaim my smile, to laugh freely, to talk without fear, and to finally feel confident and at ease in my own skin.

If you’re able to donate, any amount helps more than I can say. Your support would help me take this step toward healing, toward eating and speaking without pain, and toward smiling without hesitation or worry.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story and allowing me to be vulnerable.