Sometimes I allow myself a selfish moment to wish that my hands were more in line with what our culture admires as “beautiful”.
Then I shake myself and remember what having these hands means. I’m a doer. A maker. A grower. I’m not afraid of hard work – in fact, I enjoy it. I have hangnails, dry skin, and chipped nails no matter how much I moisturize. Polish is almost immediately messed up because I’m always going.
It’s a beautiful thing. Embrace it.
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