Recently, I needed to cut off all of my fingernails. All the way down to the “pink part” no white at all. They were ripping off at an alarming rate from abusing them as underwater tools for a project I had been working on and needed a fresh start.
Out came the clippers and the nail file. “Off with their heads” kept running through my mind as I snipped daringly close to the quick. A few drops of blood escaped as I chased a snag into the nail bed. I felt as if I was casting aside something beautiful and feminine with each cruel snap of the clippers.
I recalled when I had been approached to be a hand model in my twenties and had received many compliments on my lovely hands and nails. This had always struck me as a bit ironic. I have muscular dystrophy and my hands don’t work well. I couldn’t be a hand model as my fingers couldn’t grasp the fabulous item for sale long enough for the photographer to capture the images. Cramping would set in before the required shots could be taken of the lovely looking but difficult to maintain “flutter” of hands across the page for nail polish and jewelry advertisements.
I snapped myself back into the present and took a rest. I am unable to get through clipping and filing a hand without needing to stretch my fingers against the edge of the tabletop and rest them for half an hour or so.
A few hours later, all of my nails were trimmed and filed. I tried to decide if they looked like “man hands” now. Perhaps a coat of polish would help? I enlisted a friend to help me polish my short, efficient, hopefully healing nails. A shade of deep, rich wine warmed the pink nail beds. Better.
I have been shocked to discover how rapidly I adjusted to having these stubby nails. Instead of feeling or looking “manly”, I feel they look efficient and professional. It reminded me of the feeling I had when I swapped some time consuming long and curly hair for a flattering bob. Polish lasts longer without chipping, I have become accustomed to scooping everything off of the edge of the counter instead of attempting to pick them up (I was never very skilled at that anyway) and there are no splits or snags to deal with. I just may think of keeping them this way for a while.
I run my fingers through my long (the bob has been retired in favor of a long and straightened style…for now) hair and contemplate scheduling a manicure for next week. I will bring in a professional to trim, file and polish these short and sassy nails of mine. Perhaps they can help me pick out a new shade of polish to transition into spring with style.
I appreciate my ability to redefine what beauty and femininity are for me as I age and my disease progresses.
Angela,
Thank you for taking the time to comment and letting us know how you found Like Fine Wine!! I’m off to follow you right now. It’s lovely to have you as an active part of our community.
Jodie
Thank you for visiting my blog and commenting Jodie I really appreciate it.
Angela x