Something that is true of me: I bite my nails. My, aren’t we learning a lot about Rachel these days? If I carry on like this I’ll end up with the equivalent of one of those stupid chain emails (“what are you REALLY like?! write back and tell all your friends!!!) on the blog.
Well, never mind. Some things are worth sharing.
So. My advice is this: if you are somebody who has periods, and who bites their nails, and who isn’t colourblind, you know what’s a really good – if a little traumatizing – way to stop?
Paint your nails blood-red whilst you’re on your period.
Seriously. No matter how small and stumpy your bitten nails are. Do that, and I can pretty much guarantee that the first (and second, and… and eleventybillionth) time you raise your newly colourful hands to your mouth, you’ll catch sight of the red, and your immediate response will be “aaaaargh!!!”
Not only will the terror make you want to have nothing to do with your hands ever again, nail polish is not a good taste. And tiny chips of nail polish are hard to get off your teeth. True story. (Of course, when I was a child, my mum once painted my nails with that nail varnish that deliberately tastes foul, and all that happened was that I brushed my tongue with my toothbrush after biting my nails. So the taste thing won’t work for everybody. Or on its own. Now, if that foul-tasting varnish had been coloured brown, maybe…)
I’ve now repainted my nails purple, which – as you might be able to tell from the font colour – is more of a “me” shade. But I’m still going “aaaargh!”. Mainly because my hands, newly feminine, don’t look like mine anymore. Although they are quite cool, and occasionally I find myself holding my hands up so that I can admire them. Who knows – perhaps this will be the year I finally learn how to use nail clippers.