As a kid, I chewed my nails down to the quick. There was never an ounce of white at the tips, and I had this strange habit of folding my pillowcase and shoving the crease under my nails, pushing that tender skin back. Gross, I know. The truth is, that habit never really went away. I still “crease” my nails to this day, and after years of it, my fingernails are barely attached to their nail beds—a long-lasting reminder of my own weird fidgeting.

By the time I got to college, though, I traded one bad habit for another. With my $25 monthly allowance, I wasn’t buying ramen or stretching a dollar the way Lisa bragged she could with her $20. Nope—I was in the salon chair, blowing my budget on acrylic nails. Scrimping was never my style.