March #SOLC17 Day 23
I used to bite my nails. I don’t know where the habit came from, but it has stuck with me ever since I was about 6 years old. I can remember my friend’s mom telling me to stop. It seemed to bother her quite a bit. More than a few people had suggestions that were “sure-fire” ways to get me to kick my bad habit.
Put that yucky tasting stuff on your fingers. You’ll never bite your nails again!
Cover your fingers with band-aids. If you can’t get at them, you won’t bite them!
Wear gloves! (Following the same premise as the band-aids)
None of these remedies worked. I continued to bite and pick my nails down to the nub. I wanted to get the monkey off my back, but I didn’t believe I had the self-control. I tried to identify the times that I was most likely to nibble on my digits. In front of the TV was most common. Recognizing the time of day for my dreadful habit didn’t change a thing. I was simply more aware of my gnawing during my favorite TV shows, that’s all.
As I grew older I found myself in more professional settings and my desecrated nail beds made me feel quite embarrassed. I felt like a child in an adult role. I hid my hands every chance I got. I went through my 20’s, 30’s, and 40’s like this. Not believing in myself.
Until last summer. I woke up one warm August morning and said to myself, this is the day I stop biting my nails. I am 54 years old and this must stop.
And, I did.