Ever since I can remember, I’ve chewed or picked at something. My mom tried to get me to quit when I was a kid, but this was back in the early 1970s, when body-focused repetitive behaviors (BFRB) weren’t exactly a hot topic of conversation.
My mom was clever though, and tried to address my nail biting by way of a reward I couldn’t refuse: If I stopped biting my nails, I’d get a Barbie Dream House.
Who would say no to that?I have no idea how, but I was able to let enough of my nails grow back that I earned a rather posh place for my dolls.
Read more on additudemag.com