Today, I wanted share a little bit about how my handwriting has developed over the years to what it is today. I’ve always been happy with it, and I’ve always gotten compliments on it. It’s gotten a little rusty since I graduated high school, but it has a somewhat funny story behind it.
For some reason, I’ve always liked my handwriting. When I was little, I would find whatever paper I could find and write random stuff to fill the page. Why? So I could set down the paper, step back, and stare at my words in satisfaction. That is the ONE thing I have always been confident about.
I went to a private school from kindergarten to 2nd grade, and we had to write in cursive only. That said, they taught us from the get-go in kindergarten. By 2nd grade, print didn’t exist in my little world. Fast forward to 3rd grade, when I was taken from the private school and put into the local public school. As most know, private schools are always a little ahead of public. I was confused when the class was just learning things I had learned two years prior. Needless to say, public school made me feel smart. I remember giving the teacher the WEIRDEST look when she told me to hold off on the cursive until everyone else learned it. Turns out, the other kids couldn’t read my paper when we graded. She later asked me how long I had been writing in cursive and returned an equally weird look when I told her. I thought it was funny how blown away she was. From that moment, I was the official cursive helper. I would write examples on the board, help students and such. I still couldn’t believe none of them knew how to write it.
From that year on, I switched back and forth from cursive to print, unable to decide which I was more comfortable with. I went through SO many phases. Thick, round print, tiny print, large cursive, small cursive, and so on.
It wasn’t until I was in my forensics class Senior year of high school when we were studying handwriting that mine was hard to categorize. She asked everyone to write something and describe the letters. Then she asked if it was in cursive or print, and I couldn’t answer the question! I stared and stared and stared at my paper. What the heck was my handwriting? I asked my friends sitting around me, and one of them said, “Looks like both!” And she was exactly right! My handwriting was a perfect combination of print and cursive. Go figure, right?
From that moment, I consider my handwriting to be another part of my story.
What does your handwriting say about you?