Coming Unglued

I absolutely loved the way my fake nails made my hands look. They made me want to cook, and clean, and point, and direct. They gave the impression that I was sophisticated and clean. They were the perfect French manicure with the slightest hint of pale pink yet still fresh white. They looked real. I was craving "a look" the other day and could not get to Walgreens fast enough after the work day ended. I found a box of "real short" nails for under $5 bucks and drove home on a mission. These nails came to the tip of my own finger and even then I filed them down a bit. The shine and thickness of the nails had me looking like I just stepped out of a salon.

I eagerly went to work the next morning ready to stare at my hands as I went about my day. I know, it sounds so vain...and it is...but I couldn't help it. I had been feeling yucky about myself and thought this would pick me up. Throughout the day I noticed I spent the majority of my time fiddling with my nails and I was constantly aware that they were attached to me. They really started to bug me as I could not dig in on any one project-be it opening a Coke or fastening a bracelet without a little hesitation. Let's face it...as much as I wanted to feel pretty it was a fake attempt. I came home and ripped those babies off that night. It felt so liberating to be free of them. My hands immediately looked stubby and boring but I was able to do the things that I needed to without feeling fragile and breakable.

My daughter asked me if I had ever worn fake nails before and I told that when I was in high school we used to have Lee Press On Nails and they came in all sorts of colors (I didn't remember French Manicure being one of them). I told her they all came to a point and there weren't "active length" nails until much later on. I can remember finding a fingernail here and there on the carpet or kitchen counter when visiting other people's homes as the "press on" part of it wasn't that impressive.

I knew when I was gluing on my fingernails that they would drive me nuts, but I did so anyway. I guess I just wanted to pretend for a while...I wanted to be like "everybody else." A lesson was learned and I can now say that while it was fun playing "dress up" with my hands, I think I'll just stick with being me.