In high school, I got braces. Well, there was a lot more to it than that. There were braces and spacers and a bite plate and two teeth removed and headgear and rubberbands.
Before it all, I had to wear a bite plate that resulted in a glaring lisp. After sobbing on my staircase because I didn’t know how to fix it, I locked myself in my bedroom with the LP of My Fair Lady and worked. I spent an hour singing along to “The Rain in Spain” until my lisp had evaporated. And now, every time I get frustrated at something in my life, I think about the hurricanes in Hampshire and keep pushing.