In the third grade, I wrote a paper with the word "it" spelled backward. It was not spelled backwards just once but throughout the whole paper. I reread my paper and laughed at my silly mistake. I later learned this was not a silly mistake, but a learning disorder called dyslexia.

The learning disorder affects how my brain sees the written word and hears the spoken language. When I am told that a man walked into a bar I am questioning why on earth a man would walk into a bra.

Once I fully understood what dyslexia was my motivation and self-esteem shot to the ground over my own frustration. Due to this frustration I stopped turning in homework and was put in special education classes. My first few years in special ed were tough; I would pout about how I was not special but just like everyone else. To me, this is how I wanted to be; just like everyone else. In my third grade eyes, no one should have the chance to be special.

By the time junior high came around, I was accustomed to the routine of my special ed classes. My teachers would have a meeting about me once a year to see how my writing and reading skills had approved.

Sixth grade: Reading skills improved but writing skills lacking.

I would still be enrolled in the English special ed class. At this time my teacher had chosen a book to read and discuss it among the class; to me this was a sick joke. I knew that when I read, the words would switch themselves and I would never be able to finish the book. Oh boy, was I wrong! I picked up a random book and started reading it. From that point on I could not stop reading. My Christmas wish list had changed completely, instead of gadgets and money, I wanted books.

Seventh grade: Reading and writing skills improved.

During seventh grade I was taken out of the special ed English class and put into the regular English class. Near the end of each school day I still had to check in with my special ed teacher to get my agenda signed. This was a breeze for me. I continued my love for reading and begin to learn a new love my seventh-grade year, writing.

Writing allowed me to have worlds come alive with only the touch of a pen. By my freshman year of high school, my reading level was equivalent to that of a junior in college. I was taken completely out of the special ed problem. My love for writing continued and my passion for reading never stopped. My high school papers were read and reread again to make sure "it" wasn't "ti."

Now I am a dyslexic English major who can't help but question why a man walked into a bra.