What It’s Like to Be a Writer With Dyslexia
While reading can be a struggle, it doesn’t change how much I love it
“She’s lazy” and “she doesn’t work hard enough” are two sentences I’ve heard from educators on why school was difficult for me. The reality wasn’t simply that I didn’t have the resources that suited my learning style to help me reach my full potential as a student. Now, as an adult, I often fear this is how my employers view me as I adapt to working with my learning disabilities. I am lucky to have formed a support group of ladies who are willing to take time out of their day to look over a piece or a pitch for errors before I send it off, but I can’t help but wish I didn’t need to reach out to others to proofread my work. Why can’t my brain just spot errors on its own? Why must the one talent I have and love face such a huge hurdle?
I have fond memories of pure excitement when my mom would read me a book right before bed. I loved hearing stories and imagining them playing out in my head. I also enjoyed the quiet moment of bonding with my mother through stories. I couldn’t wait to be able to read on my own. Toward the third grade, however, it became apparent that it wouldn’t be as easy as I thought. Sounding out and reading certain words was hard, because what I saw was completely different than what was actually on the paper…
