Dear Stephanie: Don't Hide Your Hands Anymore

Acceptance of others begins with accepting yourself. The second chapter of "See Yourself, See Each Other" by Allure and Ulta Beauty spotlights personal journeys from self-consciousness to self-acceptance. In publishing these powerful stories, Allure and Ulta Beauty continue their movement celebrating respect, empathy, and limitless beauty.

Dear Stephanie,

You used to hide your hands in your pockets, or you'd fold your arms so you couldn't see your fingers. You looked aloof, unfriendly. You weren't: It's just that you didn't want anyone around to see your gnarly fingernails, which were paper thin and bitten down to a length you'd call "nonexistent."

When you were a kid, you used to marvel at your mother's nails. They were long and strong, naturally almond shaped and always painted a beautiful deep brick red. No matter how hard she was working (at two or sometimes three jobs), no matter how full her kid's schedules were, she always managed to have a beautiful manicure. Your mom did these manis herself, at home, with bottles of red polish she bought at the drugstore. Her eye would always gravitate toward the brick reds, for the way they'd hold up against washing dishes at home but still looked sharp enough for a night out with your dad.

You envied her nails then, and you were mortified that yours never lived up. You'd inherited paper-thin nails that were easy to break and bite. Way, way too easy to bite.

Once, you were shooting an indie film with some very famous actresses. You were hanging out on set, waiting for the crew to finish lighting the shot before you could film your scene. One of the actresses suddenly asked: "Do you bite your nails?"

"Yeah...." You trailed off and offered an embarrassed smile and stilted laugh and balled your hands into fists. "Ha! I've done it since I was little," you said.

You wondered if she could tell you felt like you didn't belong, that you deeply believed it was a fluke that you'd been cast in the film. You moved your hands under the table and sat on them. She watched you closely and then stared at you silently for a second before she spoke. "You should stop. Casting directors look at stuff like that. Directors too."

You were equal parts mortified and enraged. You felt your palms get instantly sweaty. The crew had finished lighting and you were called over to start the scene. The whole time you were acting, you were distracted by what this woman had said. You drove home that night obsessing about her offhand, unsolicited advice.

Could your abilities as an actress be overshadowed in a meeting or audition by your nubby, stubby, bitten nails? When did artists and actors start being judged on appearance above all else?! You felt sick and pissed and embarrassed.

The week you wrapped the film, you got nail extensions for the first time. You can wholeheartedly say fake nails changed your #selflove game.

Let's be clear: At first you started getting nail extensions or "fake nails" because you were afraid that the unsolicited-advice-giving actress was right. You didn't want your nails to be the reason you lost out on a job. You were terrified your nails were telegraphing to everyone around you that you were full of anxiety about...almost everything.

Could everyone tell that that you felt like a fake and a failure and that you didn't like yourself very much?

That you kept your nails in your mouth because you were afraid you might get caught sounding stupid — which you had a sneaking suspicion you were?

You started getting a fresh set every month.

Then a weird thing happened. Because you were spending your hard-earned cash to get your nails done, YOU STOPPED BITING THEM. They'd still end up in your mouth, but you'd immediately remember they were extensions because of the weight and length of them. You'd look down at your new manicure, your cleaned-up and smooth cuticles, your long, elegant fingers, and think "OH, DAMN." The hands you were looking at didn't seem to be yours, or they were yours but a version of you that was cooler, more elegant, more put together, in control, with a fresh set on your hands.

You started to feel like the kind of woman who has it all together.

You started getting into nail art too, as a form of fashion and self-expression. Sometimes you want to look subtle and ladylike, so you go for a soft pink or a creamy tan polish. Other times, you want a kawaii / super cute look with jelly art or stickers, and sometimes the look you want is aggressive and loud, so you ask the nail artist to load you up with metal bits and spikes. Your nails can communicate a ton of information without having to say a word.

Nail biting was part of your identity for a long time, so you will never judge a nail biter. You intimately know the feeling of the eternal eye roll you want to give when someone asks you why you "can't just stop?" Um, thanks? I hadn't thought of that?

It's hard to stop, and sometimes it feels like the only thing standing between you keeping it all together and totally falling apart.

If you can just bite off this little bit of cuticle...

If you can just sort of even out this ragged edge of thumbnail...

When you bite your nails, you have a point of focus, a place to direct your frenzied, anxious energy. It feels good, for a second, but the feeling doesn't last. Guess what lasts about two to three weeks? A solid set of gel extensions and a good manicure done by a talented artist — that can stay fresh for a hot minute.

Now you look forward to your nail appointments and have a whole bunch of nail inspo filling up your Instagram feed. Even if you don't have time to get a fill, you take the time to take care of your nails. You keep a little bottle of cuticle oil by your bed. Under the extensions, your real nails are growing stronger and more healthy. They're not at almond-shaped, hard-as-stone Momlevel", but they're not stubby little nubs, either.

You don't think you'll ever stop getting fakes, because — let's be real — you're still an anxious person, and you'd still go to town on your hands if you weren't wearing extensions. But you don't sit on your hands anymore. You wave them around and click-clack for emphasis. You know that when someone is staring at your nails, it's because they're about to ask where you got that amazing manicure and if it's hard to type with nails that long.

As you can see, it's not.

Love,