This essay was published in Malocclusion: A Post-Bimaxillary Osteotomy Nonfiction Journal, which can be found here

In my mind, there are two distinct versions of myself separated by mind and body. As far as the mind is concerned we have Victor II, the current rendition that exists today, and then the Victor that looked into the mirror nine years ago: Victor I. Victor I, birthed of shame and anxiety, exists as a foil to the pride and perfectionism of Victor II. They represent themselves with fear and insecurity, dysmorphia and dysphoria. I’ve lost many years of my life to them, passed over many opportunities. My memories of living as Victor I are hazy unclear, and suppressed. In some ways, parts of Victor I remain inside of me. Upon looking into a mirror, I sometimes see the body of Victor II through the mind of Victor I, not recognizing my form.

The body of Victor II and Victor I is only separated by a severe class III jaw malocclusion– an underbite. Victor I is an anomaly and a deformity: their physical form slowly birthed a mind, quickly replacing the original. After years of existing as them, I was given a promise of freedom from the metaphorical chains of Victor I. All I needed to do was wear a set of literal chains, and undergo an allegedly transformative surgery.

Make no mistake, the mind of Victor I was not killed by that surgery. By that point, they were barely alive, waiting to be dropped into the void. Their death and Victor II’s rebirth came when I decided that my pursuit of physical perfection was only leading me down a road of eternal patience. So I acted as if my flesh machine was in the form of my post-surgery self. It took many years of work to beat back the tumorous growth that was Victor I.

There will come a time that I will not think of this distinction between Victors anymore, as the distinction will no longer exist. The mind of Victor II slowly becomes accustomed to their body again and thus will bring forth the demise of both. For now, I will just continue with this confusing existence.