Thoughts on nail biting.June 7, 2009
Since I was four years old I bit my nails. My mom says its due to a childhood friend who bit her nails. To fit in and be more like her, I bit my nails too. The friendship is long gone but the nail biting habit remained. For the past 25 years I bit my nails until April 13, 2009. I remember sitting at the drugstore at 4am, hours after my miscarriage, waiting for the pharmacist to fill the ‘script for my pain medication and staring at my nails. I don’t know why, but I resolved to stop biting my nails that day. Since then I have not. You would think after 25 years my nails would grow brittle and weak, but they instead are unyielding in their firmness. My nails are so tough I could not bite them now, even if I wanted to. I went for my first manicure Wednesday. The manicurist admired my nails, They are so long but they are so strong. It’s funny since I got my hair cut that day and my hair dresser made a similar comment about my hair. You straighten it with a professional straightner daily without using any product to protect your hair against the heat? I shake my head. I’m amazed how strong your hair is. No split ends, no damage despite the heat.
I consider my hair, and my nails. They prove to me I am made of hardy tough stock despite how fragile I sometimes feel inside. I am strong. I will face the verdict of this cycle whether I am crying from a broken heart or they are tears of joy and fears for my future, but I know one thing: I am strong. I may not feel that way all the time, especially when thoughts of my lost Speck cross my mind, but these nails, I will not bite them again. They remind me of my strength. They remind me to keep going on. Whatever may come, I am strong enough to handle it. I lost you Speck, and still I’m standing. That in and of itself is proof positive.