Nails, Nails, Nails ….

I suffered the most ridiculous crisis this recently. I’m shocked at not only how ridiculous it was, but how important it actually was to me all at the same time.

On the return home from a recent vacation two of my fingernails suffered a violent act of aggression at the hands of another traveller. After slamming his oversized suitcase into my beautifully sculpted nails the accused took his seat with nothing more than an oops and a shrug. Clearly my nails were of no concern to him. I’m very proud at my no reaction, on the outside. On the inside I was losing my mind. This was a very big deal to me.

First of all it hurt. Those giant talons of joy are firmly cemented to my undersized nail beds. Damaging them is an uncomfortable thing. Equal to that first thought he broke 2 of my 10 perfectly sculpted, Swarovski adorned gifts to myself. Inside my head I raged against the assailant and mourned my loss of beauty the entire 2 hour ride home.

What that actually means is that I had 120 mins or 7200 seconds to panic, mourn, count the days until my next nail appointment, draft my email to my ever talented nail lady begging for a repair appointment, and plan the demise of the unapologetic assailant once we were out of the friendly skies. That last one occupied the most time. I wasn’t feeling friendly in the skies at all, but since getting arrested was not on the agenda I had to sit and fume, planning like Brain and hoping Pinky would be there when we landed to carry out my villainous plans.

Once we landed the man grabbed his bag and scurried like a beetle towards a dung heap. There was no Pinky so I had no choice but to move onto the next plan; all thoughts of revenge subdued by my missing minion. There would be no retribution, but hopefully there would be a repair. I messaged my nail lady begging for an appointment. Bless her she never lets me down. Yes she had one; damn I’d have to work 2 entire days with broken nails. Oh the horror!! Even more interesting is this was an evening appointment, almost past my bedtime and I was still going. I have rules about going out and missing bedtime on a work night. It never makes the next day feel right so I don’t do it. Yet there I was making my way to the nail salon. It was already dark and the only thing I wanted as much as my nails repaired was my Hello Kitty onesie and my bed. My nail situation had gotten worse in 48 hours. I had lost a third nail, on the other hand and I was an emotional wreck. I had spent the previous two days hiding my hands and debating adding band aids, but I thought the injured look was just too much for me. I was embarrassed and extremely sad and quite honestly almost panicking. A part of me went missing with those three nails. It was all returned just over 30 mins later when I strolled out the door, all my claws, confidence and emotions back in place. So weird!

It’s not news to me that I am somewhat addicted to my acrylic appendages. I’ve worn every shape, colour and adornment trend going for decades. I strive for the outrageous and I’m constantly searching for the ultimate in different. Luckily I found the perfect aesthetician for me. She encourages my outrageous with the largest selection of gel, Chrome, sparkle and Swarovski my eyes have ever seen. And just when I think we’ve been there and done it all she exceeds expectation with something awesome and new. My standing appointments are pretty much Sunday morning every 3 weeks. I look forward to the me time. It’s selfish time with a hint of joy and I leave every appointment with that same sense of beauty and confidence that I left with on that repair day. I’m sure I talk the ear off my talented nail sculpturess; lucky for her I’m pretty entertaining.

I used to think I was a slave to my nails because it added to my concept of being pretty. What the heinous miscreant on the plane and the aggressive attack on my beautiful treasures taught me is they represent so much more. I mean don’t get me wrong, pretty doesn’t quite cover the description they are always beautiful. Beyond beautiful though they are literally a part of me from so many perspectives. Their uniqueness defines me. They add to my confidence and clearly their health is directly tied to my mental wellbeing.

Amazing nails are just one way I appreciate myself. What do you do to remind yourself you’re special? Or have you forgotten to lately?