She felt the breeze before the brunt of the metal edge of the wooden ruler hit as it swished through the air before it came crashing down on her knuckles…. the 5 year old eyes watered and  her hand throbbed …what was her crime? Picking up her pencil in her left hand. She did not even realise it was her left hand because she got confused between her left and right hands. It was simply the hand she used to colour in and draw.

As she sat there tears rolling down her cheeks she wondered why, why, why was it so wrong to pick up a pencil in her ‘that’ hand.

She being me… I ask myself did that set the scene for me to have unusual handwriting? I often hear the comment…’ It looks neat but I can’t read it.’

Then I saw this image … and what  a beauty! Written just for me I think.


                                                  I don’t have bad hand writing…I have my own font.


Confident own font


Did this happen to anyone else when they started school? Yes, it happened to me and countless thousands of others who started school in the 1950’s. The excitement of going to school waned quickly as my knuckles suffered on a daily basis.

This ‘training’ apparently was for ‘my own good’  Miss Lowe, the googly eyed, enormous  frightening teacher towering over me bellowed. She delighted in pointing out my ‘crime’ to the rest of the class. …That pain extended beyond the classroom. If that was not torment enough horror of horrors was the maypole dance…Each of us round a pole with a coloured streamer each and the idea was steps to the left and steps to the right in sequence…I did not remember the sequence, nor which foot to put forward…gee I wonder why????

You can guess what I am going to say…left, left, right and there I would be with the wrong foot forward going in the wrong direction.  Again I felt the  breeze before the brunt of the metal edge of the wooden ruler  as it swished through the air before it came crashing down across the back of my legs.

Imagine doing that to a child today? I know we really can’t place today’s values on yesterdays actions…but that was a tough gig for a kid.

‘Straighten up your page Dianna’ would be the next bellow to fly across the room. Yes like many left hander’s…I turn the page at an angle to write. So can you imagine there I sat with the book straight, pencil in my right hand….how did I know which was right? By this time my stinging knuckles helped give me a clue.

To say it was pure hell….is an understatement. To say I did not care would be to tell a porkie of massive proportions! Thank goodness it no longer standard practice…

Next time someone has a ‘point of view’ about your handwriting…you may like to borrow the phrase I don’t have bad hand writing…I have my own font. Our handwrting is unique..maybe it is becoming  a lost art… almost everyone types. I love to look back at letters  and handwriting from family not not on this earthly plane. As I look at it and read it is like their personality jumps off the pages. I urge you to be proud of yours. Beyond the writing is the turn of phrase…but that is for another post.

Confidence in your writing style

And as a rider…did you know that ‘Everyone was born left handed…you turn right handed when you make your first mistake!!!!

If you are a left hander and of a certain age (how is that for delicate)…I would love to hear your experiences of learning to write.


Warm regards Di…and what …you are asking… does this woman do?

I am passionate about mature women having the confidence and personal presentation to support their life choices.

If that is not happening for you…let me help you… with one on one coaching, small group activity or workshops…

Especially The 3B’s ..Be seen, be heard and be visible. (available soon)

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