A brand new entry on beauty and how I’m disfigured…
Well, I’m not really disfigured like you would think. I look normal… on the outside. But inside, my mouth to be exact, I am a freak.
I have a tied tongue.
And it looks like a butt when I stick it out, which meant I couldn’t use it as an insult as a child. What kind of 7-year-old can’t stick out her tongue or has a creepy butt-tongue? This one…
AND I can’t even stick it out very far… I am missing out on so many make-out calories, at least according to these people. A 150-pound person will burn 18 calories per 15 minutes of kissing –more than one per minute. I am missing out!
Husband and I have never in our almost five-year relationship “made out” because I can’t “tongue-kiss.” I am that kind of disfigured. It is so sad, it’s almost morbid. I am a disfigured-morbid-sad person.
BUT Husband and I make due with what we have (i.e. what I don’t have; i.e. a normal tongue).
Shockingly, I looked up “tied tongue” for the first time ever in my life, and Wikipedia said it’s called Ankyloglossia. It has its own name, you guys! And it’s an awesome name.
Ankyloglossia is a congenital oral anomaly, which sounds super disgusting and STD-esque, but I promise “congenital” means before birth or within the first month or so of life. It is caused by an unusually short, thick lingual frenulum (the little flap of skin-like something under your tongue –check it out, it’s there!). Ankyloglossia varies in severity. Apparently, some people are MORE disfigured than me. Some people actually have a tongue that is STUCK TO THE BOTTOM OF THEIR MOUTH. Wow…
Tied tongue, Ankyloglossia or butt-tongue can affect speech, feeding and oral hygiene. I never had a problem with feeding. I’ve always been pretty good at that. (Also, I hope my oral hygiene is good. I always have cavities, though –probably because I’m disgusting.)
However, I still say my “L’s” funny. It sounds like an “L,” but I say it in a different part of my mouth, which I learned all by myself, and I’m pretty proud of that. Most people flick their tongue; I did not because I could not. I think my tongue has grown since then though because as long as my mouth is mostly closed, I can flick my tongue; I just have to think about it.
It is also very good that I am not of Spanish decent because I cannot roll my “R’s” for the life of me.
I took a Spanish class in college, and I asked if my inability to roll my “R’s” would affect my grade. She said I needed to try. I told her I can’t try; I can’t even pretend to try. She said I could hold a pencil under my tongue to practice. I told her that “under my tongue” didn’t exist. After a particularly confusing conversation with a woman whose first language was not English, she finally gave up and said it wouldn’t affect my grade, which is all I wanted in the first place.
(Side note: That Spanish class sucked as bad as my high school French class. I’m not meant to speak other languages.)
I guess my disfigurement isn’t as terrible as it could be. The only real ways it has affected my life is: 1) through my inability to have said “neener neener neener” and stick out my tongue as a child, and 2) Husband’s and my non-make-out sessions.
I suppose I’m not a freak…
But I wish I didn’t have a butt tongue.