One time I was performing so hard that I chipped my tooth on the

Victoria Monét once told a tale both humorous and profound: “One time I was performing so hard that I chipped my tooth on the microphone. For the rest of the show I was afraid to smile because I wasn't sure how much of my tooth was gone.” At first glance, it seems a story of clumsiness, of an accident on stage. But beneath its surface lies a lesson about the vulnerability of the performer, the fragility of human confidence, and the power of the smile in the eyes of the world. For here we see that even in the midst of triumph, one small flaw can shadow the heart and steal away the courage to shine.

The ancients would have read this tale as a parable. They knew that greatness often demands risk, and that in the fervor of giving one’s best, wounds can be sustained. The chipped tooth is not merely enamel broken by steel—it is the symbol of what happens when passion meets imperfection. We give our all, we pour out our soul, and yet a single crack in appearance or form can leave us afraid to smile, doubting whether our inner radiance is still intact.

Consider the story of Cicero, the great Roman orator. History tells us that once, while addressing the senate, his voice faltered, cracking in mid-speech. Though his arguments were sharp, he feared that his weakness had betrayed him. Yet the people still remembered his wisdom, not his momentary flaw. Like Victoria Monét, he discovered that fear of imperfection can weigh more heavily on us than on those who behold us. The crowd does not see the chipped tooth as clearly as the performer feels it; what they cherish is the spirit behind the words, the music, the effort.

The quote also speaks to the importance of authenticity. A smile is not only a gesture of joy—it is the beacon of self-assurance. When Monét withheld her smile, fearing ridicule, she reminds us of how easily insecurity can silence the truest expressions of the soul. How often, in life, do we hide our laughter, our gifts, or our passions because we fear that others will see our cracks? And yet, it is in revealing those cracks that we show we are human—and humanity itself is the bridge that connects artist to audience, leader to follower, heart to heart.

There is wisdom here, too, about perseverance. For Monét did not stop the performance. Even with her tooth chipped, even with fear stirring within, she pressed onward. This is the mark of a true artist and of a resilient soul: to continue even when wounded, to sing even when uncertain, to shine even when dimmed by imperfection. She teaches us that the stage of life is not reserved for the flawless, but for the faithful—those who show up, even cracked, even uncertain, yet willing to give all that they can.

The lesson, my children, is clear: never let fear of imperfection rob you of your smile. You may stumble, you may falter, you may chip your tooth upon the microphone of fate, but do not withhold the light of your presence. The world does not seek perfection—it seeks connection, sincerity, and the courage to carry on. Those who smile despite their cracks are those who shine the brightest.

So take this story into your heart: give your all, even if it costs you. Do not fear the flaws that come with effort, for they are the proof of your striving. And when life chips away at your confidence, dare still to smile, for it is not the smoothness of your teeth that inspires the world, but the radiance of your spirit. This is the wisdom hidden in Victoria Monét’s tale—a teaching for every generation, that we may live boldly, perform passionately, and smile bravely, no matter what is broken.