October is Dyslexia Awareness Month, and while I celebrate my dyslexic brain every single day, this month gives us an opportunity to talk a little louder about something that has shaped so much of who I am.

I was diagnosed with dyslexia when I was 10 years old. Today, I can say that sentence with pride. I understand my brain. I know how I learn. I know what I need, and I know how to advocate for myself. And yes, there are still plenty of moments when my dyslexic brain downright annoys me. But I genuinely love the way my brain works.

Ten-year-old me didn’t know any of that yet.

Before I knew I had dyslexia, I just knew that things felt harder for me than they seemed to be for everyone else. I struggled with reading and spelling, and I worked incredibly hard at school and at home. When you’re a kid and you don’t understand why you’re struggling, you start filling in the blanks yourself. For me, that meant thinking maybe I wasn’t smart enough. Maybe I was dumb. Maybe there was something wrong with me.

And one of the hardest parts was that, from the outside, I looked like I was doing just fine.

When Dyslexia Looks Like “Doing Fine”

I share a lot about those early years in my book, Embracing Your Different Ability®, including what was happening behind the scenes before I was finally diagnosed. My mom knew something wasn’t adding up. She talked to my teachers, asked questions, and tried to get me help, but she kept hearing that I was doing great in school. I was getting good grades. I was quiet. I did my work. I just needed to work a little harder.

What people didn’t see was what was happening at home.

My mom and I were struggling through homework together, sometimes both of us ending up crying at the kitchen table. She knew I was working incredibly hard, but she didn’t know what she was fighting for yet. Eventually, when she realized my younger sister, who was in first grade, was reading better than I was in fourth grade, something clicked. She trusted her gut and kept pushing for answers.

I wrote about this part of our story in Chapter 3 of Embracing Your Different Ability®:

I think about that little girl a lot now. The one who looked like she was doing fine, was getting good grades, and did her work, while at home she was struggling so much that she and her mom were both crying at the kitchen table.

Those things can all be true at the same time.

And I think that’s something we need to remember when we talk about dyslexia and learning differences. Struggle doesn’t always look the way we expect it to look. Sometimes the kid who appears to be doing just fine is working incredibly hard behind the scenes simply to keep up.

“I’m Going to Tell Them I Just Learn Differently.”

After my mom pushed for more answers and I went through a series of testing, we finally had one.

I had dyslexia.

I still remember the doctor asking me what I was going to tell my friends when I went back to school. My answer was simple:

“I’m going to tell them I just learn differently.”

There is something about those words that gets me now. At 10 years old, I certainly didn’t understand everything that diagnosis would mean for my life. I didn’t suddenly know how to advocate for myself. I wasn’t instantly confident, and school didn’t magically become easy. But for the first time, I had language for something I had been experiencing my entire life.

I wasn’t dumb. I wasn’t stupid.

I learned differently.

That diagnosis gave me an answer, but learning what that answer meant would take years.

Understanding My Dyslexia and How I Learn

Over time, “I just learn differently” became much more than something I told my friends. I had to figure out what learning differently actually meant for me. I learned what worked for my brain and what didn’t. I learned when I needed help, how to use accommodations, and eventually how to speak up and say, “This is how I learn. This is what I need.”

That understanding followed me through elementary school, middle school, high school, college, and eventually into my career. Along the way, there were also people who helped me recognize things in myself that I hadn’t fully seen yet.

One of those people was my mentor, Doug.

When Someone Else Sees Your Strengths

I met Doug in my mid-twenties after graduating with a degree in Interior Design and working as a designer. He saw something in me almost immediately that I didn’t fully see in myself yet. He saw my ability to connect with people and build relationships, and he encouraged me to take a big career leap into sales within the design and commercial furniture industry.

What I appreciate even more looking back is that Doug didn’t try to turn me into another version of himself. He shared what he knew, believed in me, challenged me, and gave me room to figure out what success looked like for me. He helped me recognize the value in bringing who I already was to what I was doing.

There’s something pretty powerful about seeing that journey now. As a child, I spent years wondering, Why can’t I do this like everyone else? At 10, I finally had language for it: I just learn differently. And as I grew up, learned to advocate for myself, built a career, and had people in my life who encouraged the things that made me different, I began to understand something even bigger:

I don’t have to do it like everyone else!

Why Dyslexia Awareness Month Matters

I don’t need October to remind me to be proud of being dyslexic. I celebrate this amazing brain every single day… even in the moments when my dyslexic brain is downright annoying me.

But I do believe we need Dyslexia Awareness Month because somewhere there is another kid who looks like they’re “doing fine.” Maybe they’re getting good grades. Maybe they’re quiet and doing all of their work. Maybe they’re working twice as hard behind the scenes just to keep up. Maybe they’re sitting at a kitchen table wondering why something that seems easy for everyone else feels so hard for them. And maybe the adults around them don’t know what they’re looking for yet.

For me, Dyslexia Awareness Month is about helping more people recognize those struggles, ask questions, and understand that learning differently doesn’t mean someone isn’t capable.

Heck, there are full-grown adults who have spent decades wondering why their brains seem to work differently. It’s never too late to get answers, understand yourself better, and finally have language for something you’ve experienced your entire life.

If you’re looking to learn more about dyslexia, signs to look for, or available resources, the International Dyslexia Association is a great place to continue learning.

That’s why Dyslexia Awareness Month matters. Awareness can lead to understanding, and understanding can change the way we see ourselves.

Why I Keep Sharing My Story

This journey is a huge part of why I wrote Embracing Your Different Ability®. The book tells my story from childhood through adulthood, but it isn’t only my perspective. My mom, Lynn, wrote three chapters sharing her experience as the parent raising a child with a learning disability.

That was incredibly important to me because we lived the same story from two very different seats. I was the child wondering why I couldn’t learn like everyone else. She was the mom sitting beside me at that kitchen table, trying to figure out how to help her daughter when she didn’t yet have the answers.

Both perspectives matter.

And that’s one of the reasons I believe so deeply in sharing our stories. Because our stories matter, and sometimes hearing someone else’s story is exactly what helps us understand our own a little better. (PS your story matters too!)

The Conversation Doesn’t End With My Story

Throughout Dyslexia Awareness Month, I’ll be sharing more stories and conversations through The Different Ability® Podcast too. We’ll be talking about dyslexia, advocacy, understanding ourselves, and learning from the experiences of others. If you’d like to learn more about my story, Embracing Your Different Ability®, the podcast, or the work I’m doing through Different Ability®, you can find it all here on my website.

But more than anything, I hope this month makes us a little more curious. Curious about the kid who appears to be doing fine. Curious about the adult who has spent years wondering why certain things feel harder. Curious about the person whose brain, body, experiences, or way of moving through the world may be different from our own. And curious about ourselves.

And to every kid, adult, parent, educator, mentor, friend, leader, or advocate reading this: keep learning about yourself, keep learning about each other, and keep advocating.

You don’t have to do it like everyone else. Be yourself, just the way you are!