One of the reasons why I never wore a ring or a nail polish is because I do not want to draw attention to my ugly man hands. I never really liked my hands.

I've got big knuckles, probably from the knuckle-popping which I am so fond of since fourth grade. I've got big veins that can give any nurse an orgasm, and it sure does make my hands look masculine. I've got wrinkly hands that look ten years older than I really am to which no amount of lotion or moisturizer can help.

Believe it or not, my childhood friend used to envy my thin and lovely fingers; she'd call it kandilaon. And perhaps you are wondering how did they get this way.

I think the lights made it look better because my hands are waaay uglier in actual

Well, my hands have so much to tell.

Back in high school, I was a football (soccer) varsity. And in my senior year, I played as a goalkeeper. Training was tough and it involved the hands more than any part of my body. I‘ve broken some bones and dislocated a few fingers. I've had spasms and strains.

It was then when my hands started to appear veiny. But I didn't care. For all I know, I was in my fittest form, led my team to countless victories, won trophies (bagged Best Goalkeeper award in different tournaments twice), and the best thing about being committed to my sport, it kept me away from all forms of vices. I clearly had the time of my life and in such a good way.

In college, I still played football and I also started hiking mountains. My hands were able to withstand terrible weather conditions from the unforgiving heat to finger-numbing coldness. While my classmates were having perfectly shaped long fingernails (that look so sexy, by the way), I kept mine short because my hands had to hold on to soil, boulders, roots, or lianas. And while everybody has had their hands pampered from time to time, mine have been skinned, cut, bruised, and burned.

But it really didn't matter to me because my hands became strong and I learned a quite a few impressive but honestly useless skills with my hands. Like popping open a softdrinks bottle or canned good with a spoon. Or catching an egg thrown from 10 meters away without breaking it.

Look at those damn knuckles - they do make my bony hands look manly. Panira sa posing eh. Haha (Photo by: Klyde Jarabelo)

My hands turned uglier as I got older. Uglierer when I started juggling my hobbies, career, household chores, and single-parenting. These ugly hands also type a lot. Probably hundreds of thousands of lines of code that was able to clothe, feed, and send a child to school.

I've also seen wedding pictures from my friends and I always see an up close photo of the hands as the couple exchange wedding rings. I could already imagine a full-frame DSLR capturing and magnifying the tiniest wrinkles of my hands. Haha.

Jan's hands are waaaay prettier than mine. I think it's too obvious that the one in black handwraps is mine.

But I never really worry about it because you know what? No one would ever think of messing with me once they see my knuckles (please know that I also practice Muay Thai). Kidding aside, I know what these hands are made of. These bulging veins, sharp knuckles, and wrinkles are made up of years and years of love, passion, and adventure.

I never really liked my hands. I love it. And no matter how ugly they get, I am and will always be proud of these damn ugly man hands.