I grew up with a healthy fear of anyone but me cutting my nails.

At the time, there were no nail trimmers, just razor blades. There were so many examples of people having deep cuts from mistakes that I told myself: If I am to suffer, let it be by my own hand.

Some decades later, I decided to brave my fear. Nail trimmers were now available, and nail salons had become mainstream with fewer tales of woes. So I took a trip to a fancy one with ladies so pretty you would want to trim your nails before presenting them.

And then the ritual started with questions: Any skin allergies? Any underlying illnesses? Any oil preferences? The questions made me feel reassured that I was making the right decision.

The process lived up to the hype: Soak, scrub, trim, soak, shape, oil, massage, polish, cream, perfume.

During the process, I struck up a conversation with the nail tech, as any man with a pretty lady attending to him should do. She was quite chatty, and I could write a book on all her fascinating stories. I guess she chose that approach to calm my nerves.

At the end of the process, I thanked her and asked her for one piece of advice she could offer that would help me in the future.
She lowered her voice and whispered, “Don’t go through this process again. You are already doing a great job with self-grooming.”

I have never visited a nail salon since. Anytime I want to consider it, her voice lingers.

Her voice has been even stronger than my previous fear.

Words matter.

It is important to pay attention to words. They echo far into a future you might not even be part of.

– Osasu Oviawe