Growing up, I had horrible nails. Now, some of this (potentially most) was my own fault, as I was constantly picking at them. I hate cuticles; I hate the feeling of extra skin growing in the gaps where my nail meets. It gives me a feeling of claustrophobia. I also hate wearing jackets, so there could be something else going on here. My nails used to be so thin they would break upon any inconvenient wrong move. Hit a table? Break. Massaging shampoo? Break. Sports? Break. Piano? Cello? Break. You get the picture.
It became a goal of mine throughout college to grow my nails. The diagnosis of IBD certainly didn’t help with that, as it is known to affect nails, teeth, hair growth and more. I also dealt with psoriasis spreading to my nail beds, which ultimately led to my nails falling off. Cute! So yeah, it’s been a process.
I am happy to report that I have STUNNING nails right now. They are painted a royal blue, I’m on week two of gel nails that have not a single chip (a new salon that I will now never not go to), and although they might be getting too long, I’m still enjoying them. As I sit at my desk completing my mundane typing computer tasks, I am so proud and they make me really happy. Getting my nails done to me is more than just a cute little self care thing. It’s a little thing that most people probably have no real connection to, but to me, they’re a weird symbol of a lot of strife in my life and where I’ve gotten to. They remind me that things grow back, things get pretty again, and things require care, time, and persistence. It’s also okay if one breaks – there are still nine pretty ones.
On Monday, someone told me I should be a health and functional wellness coach. Another life plan amidst my nearly ten that I constantly teeter through. My response was, why would I want to dedicate my life to something that I already spend so much personal energy on? Why do that for others when I haven’t yet figured it out for myself? Her response made a lot of sense – you like helping others, you like solving puzzles, it would be new every day, you have a niche look on things because of your background, you’re empathetic, and maybe it would make you healthier and happier. Point made, Susan, point made.
It made me think about my nails again. It took almost ten years to figure out and be proud of my nails. But look at where I am now. And I think that’s a nice little reminder for life. I’ve come a long way since being that young girl with fragile nails ten years ago.
The Bam Cam 
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