I hate carrying a purse. In high school and even in college, I loathed the female obsession with purses so much that I used a wallet. Finally, when it became necessary to carry medication with me, I borrowed a purse from a friend. It was a simple design – brown leather, not too flashy – but it was Coach. Then, something happened to me. As I carried this purse, I became aware of its ability to bestow status. At the mall, I used to hope that people would notice what brand my bag was and envy it – and it wasn’t even mine! When I eventually returned the purse to my friend and bought one of my own (at Target), I was both relieved and discontented. I was relieved because I didn’t like how I had acted when I carried the Coach bag, but discontented because I had lost something that had made me feel good, even if it was shallow. In the end, the whole experience just made me feel empty.

Yes, I’m a “lefty” — and proud of it! While left-handed people comprise only ten percent of the population, my family was mostly left-handers: me, my father and my two brothers. Some people, however, just don’t understand what it’s like living left-handed in a right-handed world.