Righty VS Lefty

It was second grade, and I wrote with my left hand. I wrote with my left hand, and smiled as the teachers told me I was "different," told me I was "special."

"Mom! LOOOK!!" I smiled, "I write with my left hand!!"

She smiled at me, "Why, yes - it looks like you do."

It wasn't until the second grade when my father noticed, "What do you think you're doing?!" His voice was loud and commanding.

Innocently, I replied "I'm doing my homework; we're starting cursive in school."

"NO, no, no." He insisted, "you're writing with the wrong hand, only 'Screws' do that."

Still confused, I relented as he moved my pencil from my left to my right.

As he adjusted my hand he mumbled, "you'll have much more luck in life this way; things will be easier for you."

I didn't quite understand what he meant. I kept thinking "but I was 'special,' I was 'different'. "

"Owww! That hurts!" I protested.

"It will hurt more if you don't do what I say!" Again, commanding, but this time he looked disgusted.

Out of fear I wrote with my right. I never quite got the hang of it. I still don't do it correctly. My words still slant left as if I wrote in my other hand. The callous on my thumb physically reflects I hold my pen differently than most "righty's." In fact, my left hand and arm dominate in many tasks like a lefty.

I'm no longer told I'm special because of how I hold my pen, but I hear things instead like, "Wow, that's weird. How do you hold your pen like that?"

I just smile. How funny, the hand's we write with, and the sides they sometimes represent. I write with my left, and it's usually in the right.