Ever since I was diagnosed with dyslexia, people have judged me based on my disability. People tend to look down on me because I am dyslexic. I'm already 5'2" and I do not need people looking down on me any more than they already do. Every time that I hear, “I’m so sorry that you’re dyslexic. It must be so hard for you,” I just want to roll my eyes at those people because they can’t even begin to understand what being dyslexic means.
Being dyslexic does not mean that you are stupid or worthless. Being a dyslexic means that you are strong beyond your years. I was diagnosed when I was 12 years old. As if puberty wasn’t difficult enough, I also had to learn how to develop skills to help me manage my dyslexia. I spent many nights after that crying and asking, “Why me?”
I was born into a family where my dyslexia was accepted, but I still felt like I kept failing myself and my parents time and time again. Over time, I met some incredible people who helped me come to terms with my fate. If it weren’t for these people, I don’t know where I would be right now. I certainly would not be at Furman University stuffing my face with pizza almost every day.
Before I was diagnosed, I hated reading because I could barely read what third graders were reading at the time. If it weren’t for my parents, family, and multiple support figures in my life, I probably never would have given up fighting and let my dyslexia define me. I have wrestled with the idea that a six is not a nine and that there is a difference between Brian and brain, two words I still mix up all time. Just ask my brother-in-law Brain--wait, I meant Brian.
Does this make me weak? No, it makes me strong.
Being able to laugh at myself when I have a dyslexic moment took a while for me to do. It took a lot of time and support from my family. Without the support of my family, I would not be where I am today. Once I learned to live with dyslexia, my life finally made sense. I had my own private dance party because I did not have any other friends who were dyslexic.
My life is not defined by my dyslexia. Rather, I define my dyslexia. I don’t let people think that I am any less of a person because I am dyslexic. I like to call my dyslexia my gift because it has taught me how to be a stronger and more compassionate version of myself. My dyslexia has helped me to realize that life is full of ups and downs and that we have to deal with what is placed in front of us, no matter how difficult it might be.
So, for those fellow dyslexics out there, here’s to you and your incredible strength.
