Thirty Years in the Making...

I was a nail biter all my life. My family tried many things to get me to stop biting them, but nothing ever worked. They soaked my fingers in lemon juice, and I still bit them...and acquired a tasted for lemons! LOL. They put the yucky polish on my nails that burns your tongue, and I ate it right off.

My Aunt Carol made a deal with me a long time ago. If I stopped biting my nails, she would buy me a ring. I couldn't have one until I had nails to go with it because a pretty ring didn't belong on ugly fingers.

Over the years, I tried and tried. I wanted to quit so badly but didn't know how. I was so embarrassed of my fingernails that I'd hide my nails at all cost. This went well into my adult life, and it became difficult to give presentations at work and hold up our parts when I didn't want anyone to see my fingernails.

On my 31st birthday this year, I had radiation therapy. There was a new technician that night, and when she saw my nails, she "tsk"'d me a few times and said how bad my hands looked. I told her about my struggles over the years of trying to get them to grow out, and how every attempt ended in failure. I said that I just couldn't do it.

She leaned down toward my face, grabbed both hands and told me that if I could lie on that table and let them shoot radiation into my body, I could stop biting my nails. I left that treatment room and never bit my nails again.

While I certainly don't need that ring from my Aunt Carol, I could sure use a manicure! I've only had one throughout this process, but I've been maintaining them pretty well at home. Though I really need a manicure, I've decided to share my nails with you. Please keep in mind that this is the best picture I could get since I only have kids at home! LOL.