Help Andria Smile Again — Dental Implants for a Disabled Veteran

Hi, I'm Andria Yuu. I'm a transgender woman, a disabled veteran of the U.S. armed forces, and the very proud mom of a ten-year-old rabbit named Vanilla, whom I've had since she was just seven weeks old. I'm writing this because there's a picture I haven't been able to take in years: one where I'm actually smiling. That probably sounds like a strange thing to ask total strangers for help with, but bear with me — it matters more than it might sound like it should.

If you scroll back through my photos, you'll notice a pattern. I never show my teeth. It's not because I'm unhappy in those moments — I promise, I'm usually having a genuinely good time, especially with Vanilla curled up nearby — but my teeth have gotten bad enough that keeping my mouth closed has become an automatic reflex. In almost every picture, I look distant, annoyed, or like something's wrong, when really I'm just hiding a smile I've grown embarrassed of. I'm asking for help to change that for good, with dental implants.

**How I got here**

I served in the armed forces, and I came out the other side with a service-connected disability. (I can provide documentation if anyone needs to see it — I know it's fair to ask before trusting a stranger online.) Something a lot of people don't realize about VA benefits is that a disability rating doesn't automatically come with dental coverage. Mine doesn't cover what I actually need, which is part of why I'm here asking instead of just getting this handled through the VA the way people assume I could. Since then, my income has stayed tight enough that it barely covers the basics: keeping a roof over my own head, helping keep my mom housed too, and making sure Vanilla has everything she needs to stay healthy and fed. Dental care fell to the bottom of that list a long time ago, the way it tends to for a lot of people getting by on a limited, fixed income. It's expensive, it isn't reliably covered, and it's easy to keep pushing off a checkup or a filling — until, eventually, pushing it off isn't really a choice anymore and the damage is already done.

I'm past the point where pushing it off is an option. My teeth aren't just something I'm embarrassed about anymore; they've become a real, functional problem. Eating certain foods is uncomfortable, talking for long stretches is uncomfortable, and I've started avoiding both more than I'd like to admit. No amount of fillings or patchwork fixes what's actually wrong at this point. What I need is implants, not another temporary workaround — implants are anchored into the jaw itself, so unlike traditional dentures, they won't shift, slip, or need to be replaced every few years, and they actually help protect against further bone loss in the jaw instead of just covering the problem up. Regular dentures would be cheaper up front, but from everything I've read and everything my dentist has explained, they wouldn't really solve this for someone in my situation — they'd just be a different, slightly more manageable version of the same worry, and I'd likely be back here again in a few years asking for help a second time.

I want to be upfront that I'm not asking for anything extravagant. I'm asking for help getting back something most people never have to think twice about: being able to smile without managing it first.

**Why this matters so much to me**

Vanilla has been with me for ten years now, since she was a tiny seven-week-old baby, small enough to fit in one hand. She's seen me through more of my life than almost anyone, and she's genuinely one of the best parts of it. I want photos of the two of us that actually look like that. Right now, when I look back through pictures of us together, I see someone who looks checked-out, or bored, or upset — and it doesn't match how I actually feel in those moments at all. I want to laugh with my mouth open when she does something ridiculous, instead of catching myself mid-laugh and clamping it shut out of habit. I want to hold her up and grin at the camera instead of doing my usual closed-lip almost-smile. My mom keeps telling me to just smile for the camera, and every time, I have to explain again why I can't — I'm tired of explaining it.

It might sound like a small thing to want. But it's the thing I think about most when I picture what fixing this would actually change in my day-to-day life. And it goes beyond photos — I'm tired of managing my own face around other people. At appointments, at the store, meeting someone for the first time, at family gatherings, even on video calls, I'm constantly and quietly aware of my own mouth, thinking about camera angles and how wide I'm opening it to talk. Hiding a smile takes more energy than people realize, and it bleeds into things that have nothing to do with teeth at all — how much I talk in a group, whether I speak up, whether I let myself really laugh instead of just exhaling through my nose. I would really, genuinely like that energy back, for all of it, not just for photos.

**The plan**

I've done the research, and I've already chosen who I want to do this work: Smile Now Denver Dentures and Implants, a practice led by Dr. Soren Paape that focuses specifically on dental implants, dentures, and extractions rather than general dentistry. That focus matters to me — I want this handled by people who do this exact procedure every day, not as a side service. They also do their lab work in-house rather than outsourcing it, which keeps turnaround faster and costs lower, and they offer a free consultation to start, which is where I'll be heading once this campaign is far enough along. They do have financing options for patients who need them, and I'll probably end up using some mix of financing and whatever gets raised here — but financing still means a monthly payment I have to actually afford afterward, on top of everything else, so the more this campaign covers up front, the more realistic the whole thing becomes for me long-term.

**Smile Now Denver Dentures and Implants**
12031 Tejon St Ste 100, Westminster CO, 80234
https://cost.smilenowdenver.com/

Full-arch implant treatment through them starts around $14,995 per arch, with the final number depending on what a full evaluation shows I actually need. That range is exactly why I'm asking for help instead of trying to save toward it on my own. On my income, saving that kind of money from scratch isn't realistic — it would take years I don't think my teeth have left in them. Every dollar raised here goes directly toward my treatment at Smile Now. If I'm fortunate enough to raise more than the final cost ends up being, I'll put the rest toward the cleanings and check-ups implants need down the road, since this isn't the kind of thing you get done once and never think about again.

I'll post updates here as things move forward — the consultation, the treatment plan once I have a final number, and, eventually, the results. I'm also glad to share the actual cost breakdown once Smile Now finishes my evaluation, so anyone who gives can see exactly where it went. I want anyone who chips in to actually see what it went toward, not just take my word for it.

**What your support would mean**

I know there are a lot of causes competing for attention right now, and I don't take it for granted that anyone would choose to spend their time or money on mine. But if you're able to give anything at all — five dollars, fifty dollars, whatever you can spare — it adds up, and it gets me that much closer to a life where I'm not constantly, quietly aware of my own mouth. And if you can't give, sharing this with even one person who might be able to helps just as much as a donation would. Even a kind comment helps more than you'd think, on days when this whole thing feels like a lot to have asked for.

I want to be able to smile in photos with the people and the animal I love most, without a second thought. I want to stop looking, in every picture, like I'm disappointed about something, when the truth is I'm not — I'm just hiding. I want Vanilla and me to finally have pictures together that look like how happy she actually makes me. Thank you for reading all the way to the end of this. And thank you, genuinely, for anything at all you're able to do.

— Andria💐