When I was in junior school we had weekly spelling tests. Every time I went up to have mine marked, convinced that the words looked right, I was sent back to my desk to try again. I lost track of how often I traipsed up there, much to the amusement of my classmates, when the last word of the ten for that week such as ‘kitchen’ refused to reveal its correct spelling to me.

Now, as an adult and with my own children I can see how important that memory and the many other problems like it have been for me, to recognise that not only did I struggle with spelling but with life in general. I always felt a misfit, someone who never quite grasped things. I struggled to keep up with lessons without understanding why it seemed so hard for me. I spent hours every evening doing homework to never get more than 5/10, except in maths where I seemed to have a natural flair. I dreaded English when I had to read out loud, humouring not only my friends but the teacher as well - was that nose or noise, I couldn’t tell the difference.

I now see how the melee of confusion surrounding my early years has affected the rest of my life. I lost confidence, afraid to be noticed in case I was exposed for the fake that I was. I withdrew into myself, never wishing to make eye contact with people in case they could see the truth. I felt alone and beleaguered, lost in a world of conformity and tradition - after all, wasn’t everyone else normal?

Then relatively recently I met a friend who is also dyslexic. She not only opened me up to dyslexia but, working together, we have tried to understand the implications and possibilities the dyslexic condition has given us. We took on a whole new perspective with regard to our own attitudes towards dyslexia and learnt of its many benefits.

When I was first confronted with the revelation that I was dyslexic I denied it emphatically - surely being able to read and write and do maths was proof enough. But as I slowly progressed with my inner awareness I realised that many of the problems I have experienced throughout my life were attributable to this condition. My confidence grew as I could now understand the complexities the blessing of dyslexia brought me. Rather than feeling judged through my weaknesses I learnt to acknowledge my strengths such as being creative, very empathetic and the ability to see the bigger picture. I could see that the constraints of dyslexia being labelled as just a learning disorder undermined its true brilliance of being something far greater.

Historically, the education system in this country has been very ‘linear’, something which dyslexic children find particularly difficult to connect with. They require, as do many ’normal’ children, a multi-sensory input providing information in a format that they can both assimilate and retain.  

Many people today still struggle with the notion of dyslexia because, as it’s not a physical difference or one that requires medication to survive, they find it difficult to reconcile the different behaviours. For example, many dyslexic people ‘appear’ intelligent but then seem to under perform at school or in the workplace. I think this dichotomy gives rise to the misconception of dyslexics being lazy, slow or badly behaved. However, many in society are unaware of the unfairness experienced by dyslexics at school and the sense of being constantly reprimanded by those in authority over the smallest of things.

We need to rejoice in the brilliance that uncovering the true depth dyslexia brings, opening up a whole new dimension to our world.
My experience has led me to realise that, not only am I blessed with intuition and foresight, but that my low self esteem has just been a screen for me to hide behind whilst all the time trying to deflect taunts and bullying comments. I feel unleashed, as if the weight of persecution has been lifted and that I can now live as an equal in a world of complex and beautiful characters.