My life was a mess. But at least I had good handwriting.

It’s one of the first things I remember being proud of myself for. I always got compliments (still do) on my handwriting, and for a girl who lives on external validation, that’s a big deal.

I hold my pencil wrong, though. My mom, a former occupational therapist, shudders when she sees it. I’ve tried to change my grip, but the letters don’t look the same.

Because my handwriting is unique, and it’s important to me.

Growing up, I couldn’t help but notice how important handwriting was to many of the girls around me — and the way it didn’t matter so much for boys. 

When I learned how to write, I spent a lot of time and thought on perfecting my handwriting. When one of my best friends wrote her “a” differently, the one with a hook on top, as seen in this font you’re reading, I switched mine to match (I’ve learned this is called double-story as opposed to single-story with just a stem on the right side.). Eventually, I switched back — when I moved and my favorite teacher used a single-story “a.” 

Both of my grandmothers have beautiful handwriting. They’re very different, but I have always admired their penmanship, which was ingrained in them from a young age. When I write in cursive, I try to emulate my grandma. And my blocky print is very inspired by my nana.

Just this week, I got a text from my friend who had just found a coloring book in her house. Inside the front cover was written, “You can color in these pages and make them look almost as beautiful as you!” My friend recognized my handwriting (probably from seventh grade) immediately.

In elementary school, I remember being so jealous of the girls who had that stock middle school girl handwriting: bubbly letters with curled ends and tiny circles dotting the “i”s (maybe even a heart). 

But my friend Leah has the best handwriting — good luck trying to convince her of that.

“My handwriting is a little loopy,” Leah said. “I often try to not pick up my pencil for extended periods of time, so my letters are connected together and curly. … Sometimes I’ll do a loop and it will be both an ‘e’ and the beginning of an ‘n.’”

I met Leah in sixth grade at cross country practice. I’d just moved to town and in warmups, while I stood alone in the circle, Leah came up and introduced herself and her friend Juliana (another best friend in the making). I was beyond relieved to have made two new friends, and the rest was history.

One of our longest-running inside jokes was to argue for long periods of time about who had the best handwriting — we each thought the other did. We still sign cards with, ‘Your handwriting is better!’

“It was often in our social studies class,” Leah said. “We came up with a thing where we would switch papers with each other, and then the other person would write the name on the paper. I would write her name on hers, and she would write my name on mine, and then we’d switch back and write with the rest of our paper.”

I got really used to writing “Leah Bradley” on social studies papers.

It was silly, but it was also really important to us — handwriting was in general.

“I feel like, for girls, it’s more of a thing where you want to have neat handwriting, because it’s sort of the expectation,” Leah said. “You see other people having such neat handwriting. … I think that was important when I was younger.”

In a 2018 study from the journal “Written Communication,” “girls consistently outperformed boys in handwriting, self-efficacy, spelling, text length, and text quality.” The study found mixed results in terms of cause, but pointed to self-confidence as a potential cause of the discrepancy.

Naturally, there are lots of exceptions and asterisks to the theory that girls have better handwriting than boys. But in my experience, I’ve noticed some different standards and expectations for girls compared to boys.

An old story, I know.

But it’s worth noting the way handwriting and so many other factors impact the way we interact with the world. Handwriting is one of the first things I remember being jealous of other girls for. It’s something I’ve probably spent way too much energy on. But it’s also how I connected with one of my best friends.

And my handwriting — a product of the women in my life — is something I carry with pride.