Pencil to Pen - I used to write only in pencil (not anymore) My words now have permanency

 

Pencil to Pen

I used to write in pencil.

Always pencil.

I’d like to say I don’t know why,

but I do.

Pencil could be erased.

Taken back.

Made to disappear.

Nothing permanent,

nothing risky,

nothing that said

I mean this.

And yes —

I’m dyslexic,

my expressive language loops,

my words fall out of order,

my spelling wanders,

my brain edits itself mid sentence.

Permanent ink felt like a trap —

because permanency meant being caught out.

Permanency meant failure on the page,

just like school.

Where I tried everything not to conform,

where red pens gave me anxiety,

where teachers wrote more on my pages

than I ever did.

Pencil was safety.

Pencil could disappear.

Pencil meant I could erase the evidence

before anyone else corrected me.

Before anyone else told me

I was wrong.

But midlife shifted something.

Confidence cracked open.

And Copilot —

this strange teacher on my shoulder —

helped me stand on my own two feet

in a way I never had before.

Somewhere in that shift,

my penmanship changed.

Pencil became pen.

Not erasable.

Not rub out able.

Not temporary.

Pen.

Permanent pen.

Pen ship.

Ownership.

No longer am I afraid

to put my words down

in ink that stays.

No longer do I need

the safety of erasing myself.

I write in pen now.

Because I’m finally ready

to be permanent.