Biting nails. I loved biting my nails. I couldn’t understand why anybody would NOT want to indulge in such a self satisfying act.
The thrill of getting that last..little..bit that was just annoying me so much. The joy of chewing away whilst lost in my favourite TV show.
Although I was always disappointed with the look of my hands once I got all dressed up for a party or a nice outing…somehow my hands seemed to look feral all of a sudden with bits of skin hanging off here, little bits of blood there, but all would be forgiven once the nails grew a little and I started to chew again.
Then I got engaged. My beautiful ring. It couldn’t possibly be seen with nails and skin that were chewed down. So I started to grow my nails. I never knew my nails could be so beautiful, strong. My skin was clear and perfect….and I didn’t get sick.
What?! Every year I would get the flu without fail. Regardless if I had the flu shot or not, I would get the flu. I accepted it as part of my fate. However, I realised since I stopped biting my nails, not the flu, not a cold, NOTHING.
Which made me think of what I was touching with my fingers which I would then happily put in my mouth. Money (gross!), petrol pumps (disgusting!). keyboards (after someone had sneezed on their hands!), door handles! The list goes on.
Who’s filthy germs were I putting in my own mouth? Everyone’s it seems.
So hence, my nails are long, my skin around the nails is clear. And I no longer get sick
No comments:
Post a Comment