My Anomaly Anonymous

When I'm using scissors, I cut with my right hand. But when I'm using a knife, I cut with my left, unless I'm eating with a fork and knife, in which case the fork goes in my left hand and the knife goes in my right. I am a righty thrower but a lefty kicker, a lefty writer but a righty tennis player. My dad calls it my anomaly; I'm not a righty or lefty or ambidextrous but a mix of everything.

When I was younger, I hated this quality about myself. In elementary school kickball, I never knew which leg to use. Without a clearly dominant side, I could barely remember my rights and lefts much less put my right hand on the left side of my chest whilst simultaneously reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. But, as my anomaly and I grew up together, we eventually reconciled our differences. I realized that this little quirk was not only an interesting talking point, but also a crucial part of who I am.

So, how does this set me apart? To this day, I am still learning about myself—whether I strum the guitar with the right or the left hand or which arm first touches the ground when I cartwheel. What’s even more fascinating is that I find myself unable to predict which side is dominant in any given task until I actually try it; each trial is a...