How I kicked the nail biting habit, a bit by accident

In case you don’t already know, stuff bothers me. In fact, a lot of stuff bothers me; lateness, inefficiency, velvet, spelling mistakes,… I could go on for quite a while, so I’ll spare you an exhaustive list. I suppose at the heart of it, I worry about things. Especially things that haven’t happened yet. I think if I let myself (and I had fewer hobbies and more time) I could easily be a doomsday prepper - maybe that’s a retirement plan, but I digress. The reason I’m outlining this is far more basic. Essentially, one of the ways my getting bothered and worrying about stuff manifests itself, is through biting my nails. It’s not a habit I’m proud of, but it’s not something I am embarrassed by either, but it is something over recent years I've managed to overcome.

So this is really a success story (and a whole lot of nail art inspo)!

It all started post lockdown (ish), post relationship breakdown, and post 31st birthday. Needless to say, I was pissed off, upset and riddled with worries. A truly great start to the New Year. And as so often after a break-up, I wanted to do something to make myself feel better, new, different and entirely for me.

So at the age of 31, I booked my very first nail appointment. It made perfect sense to me at the time and honestly I’ve never looked back. So I rocked up, with the shortest, most unkempt and unsightly of nails, hoping against hope that something could be done to make them look at least a little better. I also must admit, having rather short, square, spade-like hands, I was hoping for an injection of feminine elegance too (but that probably was, and still is, asking a lot). At any rate, I was absolutely thrilled with the result and I made that nail appointment, a regular one.

The unexpected benefit was the impact it had on my nail biting habit.

Now don’t get me wrong, new nails didn’t cure my tendency to overthink (if only!) but it did create an incentive not to take it out on my nails. For one thing, and yes I am from Yorkshire, I was paying for nice nails now, so biting them to pieces was definitely a waste of money. For another, that gel polish is pretty hard to actually bite through!

So slowly but surely my nails started to grow. I kept up with my regular nail appointment, got to know my beauty therapist much better (she’s amazing) and gained the confidence to ask for more advice on how to keep my nails looking their best, confessed to the biting (as if she didn’t already know) and continued making progress. Eventually, with nails that actually surpassed the end of my finger, the opportunity to get creative finally came and I had my first foray into nail art.

Now, almost three years later, I don’t bite my nails. I still keep my regular nail appointment. I still have hands shaped like spades but… I think my nails are, at long last, bringing some of that feminine elegance I always wanted, to my otherwise short hands.

I think it’s a win.