In a swanky hotel, I waited with a gaggle of other excited beauty editors as a chic French company created bespoke nail polish shades for us.But when the time came for mine to be applied, the manicurist took one look at my hands and said: 'Should we try a pedicure instead?'I cringed with embarrassment. What she was politely trying to say was that my nails were too mangled to manicure.The reason? I bite my nails – and have done for decades. And it's a shameful secret I've desperately tried to hide.As a 45-year-old beauty editor, trying all the latest wonder-products and treatments is a perk of the job. Yet my nail-biting habit means I've even turned down a manicure from nail technicians the A-list have on speed-dial.I couldn't stand the thought of them seeing my bitten stubs.No matter what I do, my cuticles are thick and ragged and the nails so weak, they barely have a white tip among them.And this latest incident seemed to prove I was right to steer clear. As a 45-year-old beauty editor, trying the latest treatments is a perk of Bethan King's job. Yet her nail-biting habit has seen her turn down manicures from nail technicians used by A-listersI've nibbled my nails for as long as I can remember.It began when I was in primary school. As a child who hated having my nails trimmed, I resorted to getting in there first. But it quickly became a daily habit, a subconscious response whenever something even mildly anxiety-inducing happened.During exam season at secondary school and university, my nails bore the brunt. I remember my grandmother once asking: 'What happened? You used to have nice hands.'To this day, in times of stress I bite more. I take little comfort in the fact I'm in good company; it's estimated up to 30 per cent of people bite their nails, with anxiety being one of the main triggers.And nail biting isn't just a cosmetic issue. It can lead to infections, tissue damage and even dental problems.I'm aware it's disgusting as habits go and, over the years, I've tried to quit. In my teens, I painted on that toxic-tasting 'anti-bite' nail polish. It didn't work; I still munched my nails and felt sick in the process.My mum also offered financial incentives; £20 (which went a long way in 1995) to stop. I'd manage it occasionally but once I'd collected my winnings it wasn't long until I was back to my old ways.More recently, I've tried breathwork and mindfulness apps to help relax. Bethan has nibbled her nails for as long as she can remember. It's estimated that up to 30 per cent of people bite their nails, with anxiety being one of the main triggersFor my wedding in 2013, aged 33, on a mission not to be left mortified when it came to exchanging rings and the resulting photos, I managed to grow them. Yet I'd gone back to my old ways before the honeymoon was over.Since then, in the absence of any further life milestones on that scale, my 'growth' phases have been short-lived at best.Of course, I've tried strengthening nail polishes, acrylic nails and gel manicures. But I find acrylics too long and prohibitive when my job involves typing 2,000 words a day.Gel manicures offer structural support for a couple of weeks, but once the gel polish comes off it leaves my nails paper-thin and brittle.I've had the most growth success with builder-gel manis, also known as BIABs, a rock-hard type of gel polish that reinforces even the weakest nails. But that's still a short-term fix. I've never properly kicked the habit and all it takes is a few mounting deadlines and I'm back biting them again without even realising.It means that at work and social events I always feel like my hands let me down and find myself constantly apologising for them. I've lost count of the times I've trotted out the line 'Sorry about my nails, I'm between manicures...'But then came a wake-up call. I was visiting my mum in hospital after her hip replacement surgery. Noticing one of the other ladies on the ward struggling to use her mobile phone, I offered to help.As she handed me her phone she said: 'Sorry about my hands, I've never had nice hands, you know.'It stopped me in my tracks.I hadn't even noticed her hands. Yet here she was, in her 80s, recovering from a major operation, yet still feeling the need to apologise to a stranger about her hands. She'd likely been doing it all her life. Just as I had.After that encounter, I've made an effort to stop apologising for my hands. Turns out, people don't notice your cuticles as much as you think.I've stopped saying no to anything that would involve people focusing on my nails. I'm even going on a one-day course at The Gel Bottle Academy to learn the basics of proper nail care.I hope this might be the start of making peace with my nails – and, just maybe, taking a little pride in my hands.Because if I had to choose between stopping biting my nails and stopping letting my embarrassment about them govern my self-worth, the latter is the bad habit I feel it's most important to break.