Dating someone new can be a fun, exciting, and sometimes perplexing experience. While everyone brings their unique quirks and habits into a relationship, there’s something particularly strange yet fascinating about dating a right-handed man. You might not think much about hand dominance at first, but as time goes on, you start noticing small but undeniable patterns that make you go, “Wait… this is weird.”
Let’s dive into the funny, unexpected, and sometimes frustrating moments that happen when you’re in a relationship with a right-handed guy.
The Right Hand Takes Over Everything
The first thing you’ll notice when dating a right-handed man? Everything is done with his right hand. And we mean everything.
- Eating? Right hand.
- Texting? Right hand.
- Brushing his hair? Right hand.
- Holding your hand? Of course, right hand.
It’s almost as if his left hand doesn’t exist—unless he’s forced to use it. This can sometimes lead to hilarious struggles, like when he has to hold something heavy in his left hand or try using scissors designed for lefties.
And if you’re left-handed? Get ready for accidental elbow wars at the dinner table!
The “Right-Handed Dominance” in Everyday Life
Once you start noticing his right-hand bias, you can’t unsee it. Everything he does is slightly tilted in favor of the right side:
- Sitting position? He leans slightly to the right.
- Pocket placement? His phone, wallet, and keys are all in the right pocket.
- High-fives? Always with his right hand—never the left.
Video : Why Are Most People Right-Handed? The Strange Truth You Never Knew!
Even when he gestures while talking, his right hand does all the work, while his left remains awkwardly hanging by his side. It’s a subtle but hilarious habit that you can’t ignore once you start seeing it.
Right-Handers and Their Love for “The Right Side”
Ever noticed that right-handed people naturally prefer the right side of things? A right-handed boyfriend will almost always:
✔ Pick the seat on the right side when given a choice.
✔ Turn right first when navigating through a store.
✔ Use his right foot first when stepping into a new place.
And if you ever switch things up—like sitting to his right instead of his left—he might hesitate for a second before adjusting. It’s a minor detail, but it reveals how deeply ingrained hand dominance is in everyday habits.
The Struggle with Sharing Space
If you’re a left-handed person dating a right-handed man, get ready for some unexpected frustrations.
- Eating next to each other? Your elbows will constantly bump.
- Cooking together? You’ll fight over which side of the counter you can use.
- Writing side by side? Get ready for an awkward “whose hand crosses over first” situation.
It’s like living in a mirrored world where one person always feels like they’re in the way. But over time, you both learn to adjust, and these little quirks actually become endearing parts of your relationship.
How a Right-Handed Man Holds You
Even the way he hugs and holds you can be influenced by his dominant hand!
- Hand-holding? He instinctively reaches for your left hand with his right.
- Hugging? His right arm naturally wraps around your shoulders.
- Carrying things for you? It’s almost always in his right hand.
And if he’s ever forced to use his left hand for something, he’ll grumble about how unnatural it feels—as if his left hand is just there for decoration.
Right-Handers in Competitive Games
Dating a right-handed gamer, athlete, or sports enthusiast? Get ready for some intense right-side dominance.
- Throwing a ball? Always with the right hand.
- Holding a racket? Right hand.
- Pressing buttons on a controller? Right fingers do all the work.
If you ever try to challenge him to switch hands, he’ll probably laugh it off—until he actually tries and realizes he’s completely useless with his left hand.
The Unintentional Right-Handed Bias in Driving
Here’s something weird you might notice when riding in a car with a right-handed man:
- His right hand is always the dominant one on the wheel.
- He adjusts the radio or air conditioning with his right hand.
- If he has to quickly react, his instinct is to turn to the right first.
Video : Scientists Explain Why Left-Handed People are Smarter than the Rest of us
And if he’s ever forced to steer with his left hand? He’ll complain about how weird it feels—even though both hands are technically the same.
The “Right-Handed Routine” in Daily Tasks
When living with a right-handed boyfriend, you’ll start seeing patterns in his daily habits that he doesn’t even notice.
- Putting on clothes? Always right arm first, then left.
- Tying shoes? Right shoe first, then left.
- Grabbing things? If he’s holding multiple items, he’ll naturally prioritize the right hand for important things.
It’s almost like his left side exists only for balance—but never for real work!
Final Thoughts: The Strange Yet Endearing Habits of a Right-Handed Man
Dating a right-handed man comes with a lot of subtle but hilarious observations. From his preference for right-side seating to his struggle with left-handed tasks, these quirks make you appreciate just how much hand dominance shapes everyday life.
While it might seem strange at first, these habits eventually become endearing parts of your relationship—little things that make you smile every time you notice them.
So, if you’re dating a right-handed man, pay attention to the small details—you might start seeing patterns you never noticed before! ❤️
Have you ever noticed these quirks in a right-handed partner? Share your experiences in the comments! 😊
Someone Wrote ‘Hope She Was Worth It’ on My Car – But I Never Cheated, and My Wife Was Always by My Side
Henry’s world shattered when he saw four chilling words scrawled across his car: “Hope She Was Worth It.” His pregnant wife, Emily, is devastated, and no matter how much he swears he never cheated, doubt creeps in. But the truth? It’s far worse than betrayal… because someone close to him wants to tear his life apart.
I should feel relieved. But I feel heavy and betrayed.
Emily is in my arms again, sobbing into my chest, clinging to me like she’s afraid I’ll disappear. Her voice is muffled against my shirt, but I can hear her words.
An upset woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
“I’m sorry, Henry. I didn’t want to believe it, but I just… I didn’t know what to think.”
And I can’t blame her.
Because when you see something like that, something bold, cruel, and impossible to ignore, it plants a seed of doubt. And doubt is like rot.
It spreads, warping everything until you can’t tell what’s real anymore.
A pensive man | Source: Midjourney
I hold my wife tighter.
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault, Emily.”
But someone is to blame.
And she’s standing right in front of us.
Claire shifts uncomfortably under Emily’s teary, piercing gaze. Her arms are crossed, her expression is unreadable, but I can see it in her eyes.
A woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
She regrets this.
Maybe not entirely, maybe not in the way she should, but she knows she has crossed a line.
“Tell her,” I say, my voice firm.
Claire sighs like this is an inconvenience to her, like she’s doing me a favor. Then, finally, she confesses.
She tells Emily everything.
A woman with a hand on her head | Source: Midjourney
About how she wrote the message on my car. How she wanted to drive Emily away. How she thought she was doing me a favor. Because I once said, months ago, that I was scared about becoming a father.
“I’m just scared… we didn’t have the best example growing up,” I said. “I wonder if I’m going to be like him, you know?”
I didn’t think that Claire was going to take my words and twist them into her own reality.
Emily listens, silent.
Her face shifts from confusion to shock to something that makes my stomach twist.
A man sitting in a car | Source: Midjourney
Hurt.
Then, finally, she turns to me, tears pooling in her eyes.
“You really didn’t cheat, Henry?” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
“Never,” I say immediately. “Not once, not ever. I love you, Emily. I love our baby. I love our life together. Claire blindsided me with this just like she did you.”
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
The weight of it all crashes over her, and she hugs her belly tightly. Emily almost walked away from me. She almost believed it.
That Claire, my own sister, tried to break us apart.
Earlier
The last thing I expected when leaving the doctor’s office was to see my life falling apart in real time.
The exterior of a doctor’s office | Source: Midjourney
Emily and I had just heard our baby’s heartbeat for the first time. I was still riding that high, unable to believe that we had created this little human being.
We were floating as we walked hand in hand to the parking lot, my mind already racing ahead to baby names, nursery colors, and what life would be like when our little one finally arrived.
Then I saw my car, and my entire world crashed.
A happy couple | Source: Midjourney
Four words were scrawled across the driver’s side door in bold letters.
Hope She Was Worth It.
I stopped in my tracks, looking at the spray paint ruining my car.
“What the hell is that?” The words barely made it past my lips.
A message on a car | Source: Flickr
My wife stopped beside me. Her fingers instinctively hovered over her belly, like she was shielding our baby from whatever this was. I heard her sharp inhale, and I felt the way her grip loosened from mine.
Then, she spoke.
“Did you…?”
She didn’t even finish the question. She didn’t have to.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I whipped around to face her, my pulse hammering.
“No! Absolutely not! I have never cheated, Emily! I have never, ever cheated on you…”
She didn’t answer. She just stared at the words on the car, then back at me.
And I understood why.
A pensive man | Source: Midjourney
Because there it was.
The accusation. Painted right there, loud and undeniable. Someone, somewhere, thought I had done something terrible. And Emily, my wife, the woman who had always trusted me, always believed in me, was now caught between me and the evidence in front of her.
“It wasn’t me,” I pleaded, stepping toward her. “I swear to you, my love, I have no idea who did this or why.”
Emily exhaled shakily.
A close up of a man | Source: Midjourney
“I… I didn’t write it,” she said, her voice cracking on the last word.
And my God, that broke me.
Because I know what she was really saying. That if she didn’t do it, then who did? And why?
She wasn’t accusing me, not yet, but doubt had crept in. The same doubt that I knew would be impossible to shake until she had an answer. I knew that my wife’s imagination was running wild. She was probably thinking that that I had a beautiful woman on the side. Someone that I went to when I wasn’t with her.
A woman in a red dress | Source: Midjourney
“I need time to think, Henry,” she said.
“Emily, please…”
“I need to clear my head,” she cut in, her voice trembling.
She pulled out her phone and called her mom, quickly telling her that she needed to be picked up.
A woman using her phone | Source: Midjourney
About ten minutes later, I watched as Emily climbed into the passenger seat of her mother’s car, wiping at her cheeks.
And just like that, she was gone.
I stood there, alone in the parking lot, with nothing but the letters branding me a liar and a thousand unanswered questions.
A man standing in a parking lot | Source: Midjourney
That night, I stood in my driveway with a bucket of water, scrubbing furiously at the hateful message.
I should have been inside with Emily, celebrating our baby’s first milestone, or our first milestone as parents-to-be.
Instead, I was alone, trying to erase the damage someone had done, not just to my car, but to my marriage.
My arms ached from scrubbing, but the paint had absorbed the ink. The words wouldn’t budge.
A bucket of soapy water | Source: Midjourney
Just like they wouldn’t leave Emily’s mind.
Because as much as my wife loved me, as much as she wanted to believe me, someone had planted doubt inside her. And doubt, once it takes root, doesn’t just go away.
Was it possible that my car had been mistaken for someone else’s? Maybe it had been a part of someone else’s revenge plan?
I was so lost in thought that I almost didn’t hear the footsteps approaching.
A man kneeling in front of a car | Source: Midjourney
But then…
“Don’t bother thanking me,” a voice said from behind me. “You’re welcome.”
I froze.
I knew that voice.
I turned around, my breath caught in my throat, and there she was.
Claire. My sister.
She stood there, eating an ice cream like everything was right in the world. She was smug as hell.
A woman eating an ice cream | Source: Midjourney
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, my voice dangerously low.
She shrugged.
“I wrote it. Duh.”
I blinked.
The words didn’t register at first.
“You… what?” I dropped the sponge I was using into the bucket.
A sponge in a bucket | Source: Midjourney
Claire tilted her head, like I was the dumb one here.
“I wrote it. You’re too chicken to deal with this baby, so I figured I’d help you out. If Emily thinks that you cheated, she’ll leave. Problem solved.”
The world tilted.
“You really think you helped me?” I hissed, stepping toward her.
She rolled her eyes.
A woman with her hand on her hip | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, come on. You’ve been freaking out about this kid for ages now. At Thanksgiving, you went on and on about how you weren’t ready. Don’t you remember? We were at the bakery getting the last-minute pies. You were going on about how money was tight. About how stressed you were. I just… made things easier for you.”
I was shaking.
“That was venting, Claire! It was normal stress! That didn’t mean I wanted out! And… am I not supposed to talk to my sister about these things? I should have known better.”
Pies in a bakery | Source: Midjourney
“Well, how was I supposed to know that?” she shot back. “You should’ve been clearer.”
I almost laughed out loud. Except that nothing about this was funny.
“This isn’t like when you ‘helped me out’ in college,” I snapped, kicking the bucket. “This isn’t like when you told my ex-girlfriend that I was flirting with other girls just so I’d break up with her. She cried for days. This is my wife. This is my child. And you…”
I pointed to the car.
A woman sitting on a bench and crying | Source: Midjourney
“You just ruined my marriage. You just burned my marriage to the ground, Claire! And for what? What did you get out of this?”
Claire actually had the audacity to look bored.
“You’re being dramatic. Emily’s overreacting. It’s just a little lie.”
A little lie?
My breath was uneven. My hands trembled.
An angry man | Source: Midjourney
“You’re going to fix this.”
Claire scoffed.
“Oh, yeah? And how do you suppose I do that?”
I gritted my teeth.
“Get in the car! You’re going to tell Emily the truth. Right now.”
A man standing in front of a car | Source: Midjourney
When we got to Emily’s parents’ house, I was armed with a bouquet of flowers and a chocolate cake. It had been her constant craving for the past week, and I hoped that it would make her smile.
She was hesitant to let me inside.
I could see it in her eyes. The uncertainty. The hurt. It was all there.
“I just need you to listen, my love,” I begged. “Please.”
A bouquet of flowers and a chocolate cake in a car | Source: Midjourney
After a long pause, she opened the door.
Claire shuffled in behind me, suddenly not so smug anymore.
“What’s going on?” Emily asked, arms crossed.
“Tell her,” I turned to my sister. “Now.”
A woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney
Claire hesitated, glancing at me like she wasn’t sure anymore if this was a good idea. But I wasn’t letting her back out.
“Tell her.”
With a sigh, Claire admitted everything. And when she was finished, Emily turned to me and grabbed my waist.
My wife turned to Claire, her expression unreadable.
A woman with her hands on her hips | Source: Midjourney
“You owe me an apology, Claire,” she said. “This was despicable behavior. I can’t believe that you’d do something as horrible as this. If it was such a big deal, and you were genuinely worried about Henry, why didn’t you just come to me? You could have told me what he said and that you thought he wanted out.”
Claire shifted, clearly uncomfortable.
If I’m being honest, I could barely look at my sister. Something had changed in me. She wasn’t the person that I loved a few hours ago. Now?
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
Now she was a horrible woman who had tried to end my marriage based on a conversation we had a long time ago. A conversation that had been in passing. A conversation that had never gone any further than that moment.
“I’m… I’m sorry, Emily. And Henry, I was wrong. I didn’t think it would go this far. I just thought that you two would be forced to have a conversation and that he would tell you the truth.”
“But that isn’t the truth,” Emily said. “It was just your assumption.”
A frowning woman standing in a living room | Source: Midjourney
Claire looked to Emily as though she would say something else. Anything to make it seem as though forgiveness was in sight. But Emily didn’t say much else to her. And I could tell that she was done with Claire.
For a long time, maybe. Or maybe even forever.
And honestly? So was I.
I couldn’t imagine Claire being around my child. I couldn’t imagine what she would be whispering to my child or how she’d treat that baby.
No, we were better off without her.
A new born baby | Source: Midjourney
Over the next few weeks, Emily and I worked through everything. It wasn’t easy breaking through the doubt that had crept in, but we came out stronger.
As for Claire?
Well, she’s on thin ice as far as family is concerned.
I made it clear that she’s not welcome around us unless she gets her act together.
A smiling woman sitting in a rocking chair | Source: Midjourney
In the end, I learned two things:
Never let anyone’s drama mess with your marriage.
Be careful who you vent to.
Because some people don’t want to help you. Some people just want to watch you burn.
A man sitting on a porch | Source: Midjourney
What would you have done?
If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you |
When Ally hears that her daughter died, the heavy haze of grief takes over her until one evening when her son, Ben, admits that his sister waves at him from across the road each night. Is Emily still around, or is something spooky at hand?
This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
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