Ironically, it took me nine years to learn how to spell dyslexia. They may as well have named it supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. I remember sitting in my fourth-grade class, reading, The City Of Ember. My teacher would call on students to read out loud. My stomach would drop thinking about who the teacher would call on next to read. I could read independently, but when I read aloud it sounded like a baby spitting out its first words. I skipped words. I skipped sentences. I had to restart sentences, and I mispronounced words. I never understood why everyone else in my fourth-grade class could read without any mistakes. I felt alone, and stupid. It took me two times longer to read a page than any other student. I felt judged by other students. At the very least, I felt they were annoyed. If anything, I was annoyed at myself. I was annoyed at myself for not being able to do what so many others could easily do.

When I found out that I was dyslexic, it answered the question as to why I struggled more than other students. And it made it clear that my life would come with its struggles. Yet those sets of challenges would not limit me on what I could do or how I did in school. I still chose to take honors English whenever it was given as an option. I chose to push myself in my education rather than let my dyslexia be a barrier. After I avoided reading throughout middle school. Since I thought it would be to difficult for me, I started to read again. A book. A notecard. And a desire to overcome my dyslexia instead of succumbing to it. Now I read books outside of school for fun, without the help of an index card or audiobook. Dealing with dyslexia made it so I was used to asking questions when I was lost which led me to see how asking questions is not weak or bad, but as John Patrick said “Asking questions is not a matter of weakness or of being uninformed. In fact, people who ask a lot of questions tend to achieve more and learn more than those who do not.” Questions gave me clarity.                                                                                                                                                                                                        Despite the obstacles, I faced dyslexia. Dyslexia opened up opportunities. It led me to find what I was skilled at. I may not have the best eyes for reading, but I do have an eye for design and art. I found passion in creating pieces of artwork and taking pictures. I also was the student in class who saw the bigger picture. I saw what the author was trying to convey because I was never too focused on the words, but instead, the overall theme or message. I was interested in what the whole story was trying to convey to the reader.                                                          

Having a learning disability has helped shape me to be a stronger student and person because of all the strategies I rely on that truly give me advantages with challenging assignments and life circumstances. Dyslexia is not my setback dyslexia is my springboard into challenges that help me continue to go. I have dyslexia but, I will not let dyslexia have me.