“Goodness” changes

Today, I’m a rather messy person – dropping clothes and towels on the floor, misplacing irreplaceable items left and right, letting dirt pile up until it discolors the carpet. But once upon a time in the past-tense realm of childhood, I was a neat freak. Any handwriting expert would tell you this.

My perfectionist’s drive manifested itself most clearly in my grade school notebooks. These black-and-white composition books were chocked full of clean, rounded block letters, “I’s” dotted decisively, mistakes (reluctantly) crossed out with a thick black line. Each page, I considered, was a feat of artistry and order – of course I doodled, but these sketches were not to be found creeping in the margins but rather on their own, specially designated pages.

Having a neat notebook was an utmost priority of mine, in addition to snagging the perfect pink-trimmed Nike sneakers at the beginning of the school year and making sure ketchup was a component of as many of my meals as possible. To jazz up my notebooks, I insisted my mother drive me to a local stationary store and buy Milky Pens. As a result my notes had lines of gold, silver and turquoise ink that other girls could only envy. Building my inflated confidence were my teachers. I took a fundamental pride in my notebooks, but became even more ecstatic when a teacher asked to photocopy my clear notes to give to absent students – a regular occurrence.

Today, my handwriting has evolved into something quite different. No more are there straight letters, perpendicular lines, neat margins. Today, my penmanship is loose and loopy; a unique hybrid between simple and cursive letters, with many connected to each other for the sake of jotting down words as quickly as possible. I can’t help but see meaning in this evolution – that today I am undeniably looser, more prone to doodles and unorthodoxy, a bit less constrained by a desire to please. I only wish it was socially acceptable to hand in college assignments in sky-blue Milky Pen.