October Is Dyslexia Awareness Month!

Dyslexia is a language-based learning difference that is neurobiological in nature. It affects the part of the brain responsible for processing language. For those who may not know, I have dyslexia. I was diagnosed at the end of fourth grade. Although I know much more about it today, at the time I knew very little. School was a struggle and often felt like a fight when it came to academics.

fall path with warm light in the distance

Even though I did well socially, I never truly felt that I belonged in school. The stark difference between the kind of student I was compared to my friends was impossible to ignore. I often felt frustrated and alone, and I didn’t understand why. I internalized these feelings and blamed myself for being unable to learn like everyone else. I frequently found myself lost in the back of the classroom—distracted and disconnected from the lesson.

Miraculously, I managed to find ways to express myself and connect with the world through art, dance, music, and anything creative. I understand now that my passion for creativity and my deep calling to connect with and help others were—and still are—ways of compensating for my dyslexia.

Not long ago, my son was also diagnosed with dyslexia, and again I found myself caught in the familiar cycle of blame and shame. I felt horrified imagining the academic struggles ahead for him and saddened by how difficult school felt for him already. Rationally, I knew this wasn’t my fault—it’s genetic—but emotionally, it was hard not to take it personally. Over time, though, having a son with dyslexia allowed me to reconnect with my own experience in a new and healing way.

Today, I can accept the discomfort and challenge dyslexia brings. Even though I’ve learned how to read and write, I still struggle—especially when I’m tired or not feeling my best. I’ve learned not to take myself too seriously and to practice self-compassion when I make mistakes, a lesson I’m trying to pass on to both my children. I’m humbled every time I ask for help spelling a word I “should” have mastered in kindergarten.

I share my story in hope to generate awareness and compassion in others and give way to deeper more meaningful connections. Perhaps you’ll feel moved to learn a bit more about dyslexia or find a gentleness in your reaction the next time you read a spelling or grammatical error in someone’s message.

Dyslexia Awareness Month reminds us, our differences are not deficits. I’m inspired to start more conversations about how we can support one another with empathy and understanding—no matter what our differences may be.