It wasn’t that I ever hated school, it was that I felt that school hated me. In elementary school when other children were breezing through multiplication tables and timed minute math assignments, I felt like I was drowning. I could not keep track of anything: books, assignments, viola lessons, friendships, and even my backpack once. For years, I felt stupid. I couldn’t understand why things that seemed so mundane for others felt like climbing mountains for me. It wasn’t until the end of elementary school when I finally found an answer. I was diagnosed with ADHD.

In all aspects of my life, especially in the years before high school, ADHD fought me tooth and nail. Because it took me longer to grasp concepts, I struggled to keep up with my peers in school and in life. I struggled with school my entire life, especially in mathematics. Both my grades and mental health suffered as a result. Despite the odds, I fought through high school and was accepted into every university I applied to. I can’t begin to describe what this meant to me. I sobbed when I opened my first acceptance letter to Penn State Berks.

Now almost three years later, I am a junior at Penn State University main campus. Although studies have shown that the effects of ADHD often lessen in adulthood, I still struggle with the longitudinal side affects of my childhood learning disability. For example, because I often felt lost and hopeless in the public school system, I never really learned how to study efficiently. As a result my freshman year was rocky, as I learned how to tackle school in a smart way for the first time. Like I did for most of my childhood, I lived my first year of college in typical disorganization. It took living on my own for the first time for me to realize that this kind of living was not functional for me anymore. College presented me with situations I had never dealt with before and through trial and error, I learned new ways to deal with the habits my disability left me with. Though I still struggle with self-criticism, I am proud of how much I have grown in my time at college. Though I know I still have a ways to go, I feel more mature, responsible, and hard-working than ever - and unlike my childhood, I now have confidence that my work is paying off and I am not simply running in circles for nothing.

I know I am not the only person with a learning disability. Growing up, children with learning disabilities are often reminded how many of their classmates are probably also struggling with something similar. Still, because no one talks about learning disabilities, it is easy to let the situation make you feel small and alone. There is a lot of awareness surrounding the stigma of mental illness and the dangers it presents to victims, but I believe that there is also an incredibly harmful stigma for those with learning disabilities. No one wants to admit that they need help or to feel unintelligent. So many people, especially adolescents, struggle daily with learning disabilities and yet the emotional support for them is severely lacking. Feeling invalid, dumb, and helpless are dangerous emotions for anyone to take on for extended periods of time. With time, negative self-criticism becomes habitual. People living with learning disabilities get to know negative self-talk very well.

For me, I believe truly knowing I was not alone in my ADHD would have made a world of difference. The moments where teachers and mentors took the time to look at me for who I was, recognize that I was drowning, and offer me help that was perhaps atypical still means so much to me. It hurts my heart to think of the children who are fighting now, not understanding why they are the way they are. For their sake, I think the time to start talking about learning disabilities is well overdue. We have to let those suffering know that they are not at fault and they have nothing to be ashamed of.

I encourage my peers who experienced the pain of learning disabilities to embrace who they are. Though it is difficult and can feel shameful, having a learning disability is nothing to be ashamed of. We are not to be the blame for the things we are born with. They taught us to be resilient and they have made us who we are. And that is something we should never feel regret over. Opening up about my learning disability freed me. I no longer was bound by a secret I felt ashamed over. When I admitted it to others, I also admitted it to myself. Yes, I have ADHD. Yes, I receive help for it. And yes, I am still smart, capable, and worthy. Once I took ownership of my disability, I was in control of it. It no longer has the power to hurt me.

I am twenty years old. I have lived with my disability since I was seven and I spent much of my life living in its shadow. But I refuse to do it any longer. I am so proud of how much I have grown and who I have become in spite of my setbacks. And now, I want to share with the world that having a learning disability was not a flaw in my character. In fact, it molded the very best parts of me. My learning disability taught me to adapt, to work hard, and to stand up again each time I get knocked down. I have come so far and I will never apologize for the mountains I climbed to get here.