As a little girl, I knew I wanted to be a writer “when I grew up.” The problem was, I couldn’t read or write. I realized at a young age that I didn’t learn like everyone else. I felt stupid, different, and disconnected from others. I struggled to read, write, and spell for the entirety of my childhood.
I was in seventh grade when my mother had my brother and I tested for a learning disability. At age 12, we discovered we both had dyslexia. I could barely read on a third-grade level, and I couldn’t even spell on a first-grade level. Along with the news that my brother and I had dyslexia, they also told her it was highly likely that neither of us would graduate high school. Looking back, it was a blessing that my mother never told us.
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