Doing it the Left Way

Battling perfectionism single-handedly.

I might never have started this newsletter had it not been for breaking my right hand.

I’d planned it, the newsletter, not the break. The idea had been scratching at my brain for a while, but my brain was tired, and I wasn’t feeling like one of those sparkly people who stare back at you from Instagram.

I needed to sort myself out, have some professional photos taken, free up some time and energy to design a cool logo, research other newsletters and draft lots of posts in advance. I started with the easiest task: research (aka procrastinating). I disappeared into the internet ether for way longer than intended, using all the time I had. I ended up in a state of analysis paralysis, which I broke out of by falling on ice on the fifth day of the new year.

I wasn’t smiling when it happened

So much for my New Year’s resolution – just the one – to make 2025 better than 2024. My plaster cast, starting under my elbow and reaching halfway down my fingers, became my constant companion.

Everyone – even people on the street, especially people on the street – told me how lucky I was that it happened in winter, “It’s itchy and sweaty and stinks in summer”. I didn’t feel lucky; I’m right-handed. Showering meant holding my right arm high in the air and away from splashes and washing my left armpit like an ape – luckily, no one was watching 🧐.

I was not looking photo-ready: washing my hair made it look worse, as only one side got a proper lather – picture those before and after photos; I was the live version. Makeup was lopsided, and my genius idea of minimising the daily effort by dying my eyebrows using my left-handed skills left me with what my daughter referred to as “slugs above your eyes” for more weeks than eyebrow dye usually lasts. I draw the line at sharing a photo of that!

The left-handed logo design attempts weren’t much better. I'm not a gifted artist at the best of times: my horses could be cows, dogs or rats. My logo doesn’t feature animals, but you get my point.

Initial design by my kids

Drafting posts was a tedious one-left-index-finger-at-a-time process – I was averaging about ten words per minute 🙄.

That just left procrastination, which I was already too good at!

There were upsides to my broken hand, though. 2024 had been a bad year for me, ending with insomnia. After many weeks of struggling, I got into an awful spiral of fearing I wouldn’t sleep as soon as I got into bed, and, of course, with time, that became a self-fulfilling prophecy. My doctor suggested sleeping tablets, and everyone – not people on the street but my closest circle – had different opinions on whether to take them or not. I felt like a zombie; I looked grey, and I wasn’t thinking straight. The cast made things worse at first – the added effort of trying not to knock my husband unconscious in his sleep was a challenge. But from the second night, I slept like a baby (the ones that sleep well and don’t wake repeatedly in the night – as a mother, I find this idiom ironic). I felt like a new woman within days and ready to fulfil that New Year’s resolution – if only I could use both hands.

“Having to use your other hand may be helping you sleep,” my doctor told me. I did some research (again), and, although I didn’t find anything specifically supporting this, non-dominant hand use is associated with stress reduction, which made sense. Everything was such an effort, and using my left hand slowed me down a lot. For a natural rusher, this alone was good once I got used to it.

The biggest benefits by far were in other areas:

• My left-handed ironing was shocking. I iron all our clothes (apart from undies). This has come up in conversations with other mums; one refers to me as “the mum who irons stuff”, not in a mean way, and I’ve never noticed that her kids look creased. I gave up ironing both sides of clothes and reasoned that skinny jeans stretch out.

• I couldn’t get my hand wet, so I stopped cleaning up after everyone. The words of a neighbour came back to me; we had been talking about my return to full-time work and us managing the household. “I work full time, and we manage,” she’d said, making me feel like a lazy cow until she added, “You just learn not to look so closely.” I have a lot of respect for this woman. I told my husband and the kids to clean up after themselves, and they did: I may have waved the cast around menacingly while making that request.

• I threw together simple meals and stopped offering to bake cakes to take when we were invited places; we bought them instead, and our hosts didn’t care either way.

I gained so much time by taking shortcuts and caring a bit less. I was more productive, even if it wasn’t up to my usual standards.

Now, back to the newsletter. I stopped waiting to tick all the boxes. I sketched my logo with my left hand; it was meant to remain a sketch, but I decided to use it as is. It’s a reminder that things don’t have to be perfect. I took some selfies and let the kids take some photos of me. Most importantly, I stopped researching and comparing my efforts with others. I finally finished my welcome post and this first post.

When my cast was removed, I gave myself a pat on the back – a soft one, as I still need to take it easy for a few weeks, but I'm better at that now.

I’m not suggesting you break a bone to change your mindset, but we could all give ourselves a break from trying to get everything right. As John Lennon said, “Life is what happens when we are busy making other plans.”

Here's wishing everyone a brilliant 2025 – I know it's March already, but I'm still catching up, slowly – and that's okay😉.