My friends and coworkers regularly make fun of my handwriting. I’ve been told I write my Os backwards, my Ss start from the wrong direction, my As are just all wrong, and all sorts of other critiques. In a church council meeting once, a member of the team openly said he had to look away while I made notes on the board because watching my backwards and upside-down lettering was just too much of a distraction for him. And I’ve had this issue as far back as I can remember. In elementary school, I struggled to learn cursive because my unusual lettering didn’t flow in the direction needed to complete all the loops and swoops my teachers wanted. Back when I took the LSAT, the test required writing an honor pledge in cursive, and this proved to be the most nerve-racking portion for me. To this day, my “signature” is just three sloppy squiggles because completing those loops properly goes against the way I habitually write my letters. I never really understood why I write this way (and even felt pretty self-conscious about it) until a friend said something that clicked:

It’s almost like you write left-handed but with your right hand.

My older sister, Becky, played a huge role in my early childhood. A gifted pianist and artist, she was both creative and compassionate, and she devoted a lot of her time to helping her brothers. She was the one who got me started drawing, and I vaguely remember her teaching me to write my name (Thomas) which contains my backwards O, my inverted S, and my all-wrong A. Becky died when I was seven, and if you haven’t already guessed, she was left-handed.

Sure, my writing may weird some people out, but it was a gift from my sister, so I refuse to be ashamed of it. Someone taught you to write too, so it might be nice to say a little “thank you” next time you pick up a pen or pencil. Everything we have comes from someone. Every skill, every gift, every habit— someone gave them to us or nurtured them in us or refined them with us. You are a living collection of all the people who have loved you. While this may be a humbling thought, I hope it’s a happy one as well.