No, I didn’t need them. There’s no long lasting value to getting finger nails polished. But that is just what I needed to do Friday afternoon — very uncharacteristic for my quite practical nature. Yet, after years of servicing others, going without any typical comforts. The “home” prison I evacuated in November was in an unfinished attic — no bathroom door, half a ceiling… Everyone around me was getting tatoos, piercings, new clothes, nails, hair styles. It seemed understood that it was now MY turn to have a common comfort. Repeatedly, I have been told to “take care of yourself”, “treat yourself”, “you need to heal.”

After months of driving by a small town main street beauty salon, yesterday was the day I turned to the right and walked in to get my nails finished into a French-style manicure. It was a luxury treatment for certain — painted to match my car.

Then there’s the conversation that ensues when the manicurist asks “What kind of work do you do?” That’s still an uncomfortable question for me since having my long-standing career taken from me by a cruel abuser. So, I say the truth “eCommerce”. Then there’s the silence. I know I have to add the next description “internet sales.” That is usually where the conversation ends. I felt comfortable to explain a bit further about the destruction of my multiple jobs and awesome career.

The price: the same fee I charged for private art or music lessons that took me decades to be skilled and willing to charge $30 a lesson. My nails do look nice. I’ll consider having them done again in another month — but maybe I can locate a salon with a more competitive fee.  Again, I’m reminded that I’m not a “typical” woman, obsessing about nails, hair, clothing. My nails look nice, but I’d rather be involved in more cerebral activities: writing, reading, performing, discussing, solving, searching, repairing, blogging, learning.



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