24/10/2025
Growing up with dyslexia in the 1980s was, in many ways, like walking through a maze where the walls kept shifting. Back then, awareness and support for learning differences were sorely lacking. While today there are resources, advocacy, and understanding, my experience as a child was quite different.
In elementary school, the classroom felt like a battlefield. Words seemed to dance around on the page, refusing to settle into place no matter how hard I tried. Teachers, well-meaning but misinformed, often mistook my struggles for laziness or lack of effort. I remember the frustration of being pulled aside for extra reading practice, feeling isolated and different. The curriculum wasn’t built for minds like mine; it followed a rigid path, leaving little room for creative approaches or alternative learning styles. Each day was a test of resilience, not just academically, but emotionally.
Yet, as I navigated those challenges, something quietly extraordinary began to develop: my ability to see patterns where others saw chaos. While reading and spelling posed obstacles, I found myself drawn to the underlying structures in stories, numbers, and even people’s behaviors. Over time, I realized that my brain was making connections in unique ways, identifying patterns and trends that others might overlook.
This knack for pattern recognition has become a cornerstone of my professional life. Today, as I analyze client behavior and health data, I’m often able to spot subtle trends and insights that drive powerful outcomes. What once felt like a liability—my dyslexia—has become one of my greatest strengths. The early challenges taught me grit, empathy, and creative problem-solving. Most importantly, they taught me that different doesn’t mean less; it often means seeing the world in a way that can offer fresh, valuable perspectives.
To anyone facing similar hurdles or supporting those who do, remember: our differences can be our superpowers. The key is finding the right environment and opportunities to let them shine.
