I’ve dreamed of writing this article for a couple of years now. But I wanted to gather enough experience first—so it could be deeper, richer and more meaningful.
This article isn’t really about nails.
It’s about the women who come to get their nails done—not just for beauty, but for the conversations about life. About everyday struggles. About husbands, kids, fashion, health, heartbreak, and sometimes… just to sit quietly and breathe. Or laugh until they cry.
My name is Anya, and I’m just a girl from Odessa. I entered the nail industry when I was 18, not realizing how big and emotional this world of women really is. A world where a woman takes two hours out of her life not just for pretty, strong, polished nails—but for something deeper.
People who’ve never had the same nail tech for 5, 10, even 20 years might not understand… but we, as nail artists, go through entire chapters of life alongside our clients.
For me, it's like living a little piece of each of your lives.
We remember your stories. We hold them in our hearts so next time you come in, we can ask: “So, how are you? Did that thing get better?”
We hear about your tears, breakups, divorces, pregnancies—wanted or struggling to happen. Teenagers you can’t vent to anyone about. Illnesses you’re too embarrassed to tell even your best friend. We hear it all. And it’s never just “a nail appointment.”
It’s therapy. It’s friendship. It’s safety.
And then, you look down at your hands—and the nails are beautiful. And somehow, even for a moment, your problem feels smaller. You forget about it for just a second, and I see it in your eyes—that quiet spark of peace. That’s the magic of our work.
Every day, I hear at least 3–4 life stories. I’m a person who feels your joy and pain as if it’s my own.
I remember one day, I was doing a pedicure for a client when she got a phone call: her grandfather had passed away. I didn’t know what had happened yet, but I could feel something was deeply wrong. I stopped everything, closed the door to the room so no one would hear, and just sat next to her, holding her hand. She cried so hard, and I just sat there, feeling her heartbreak like it was mine. That was five years ago, and I still remember it like it happened yesterday.
When someone shares their emotions with you, it’s like carving a word into a tree—it doesn’t disappear. Her story becomes part of me, forever.
Another time, a girl came in for a manicure. She looked like she had something on her mind, like she wanted to talk but wasn’t sure if she could.
I asked her gently, “What’s wrong? I can see it in your eyes.”
She broke down crying. She didn’t say a word for a while—I just held her hands and sat with her in silence. I could feel how lonely she was, how much pain she was carrying alone.
Then she told me the doctor had said she might not be able to have children. There was nothing I could say to fix it. She didn’t need advice—she needed to release her pain.
And I took it. I held it.
Later that night, I went home, sat in my bathroom, and cried. But I don’t have a nail tech I can talk to.
So I store it all in my heart. These stories stay with me—not as trauma, but as wisdom. A path I’ve walked not myself, but with others. And that’s what helps me understand life a little better.
I’m 27 now, and I still remember every woman’s story. So when a new client comes in with the same pain—I’ll know how to be there for her.
And maybe, one day, when something difficult happens in my own life… I’ll already know how to survive it.
Anna Turchak (@turchak_anna_nail_coach) is a professional nail technician originally from Ukraine who is now living in the U.S.
