How I remember as a child, my mother covering my hand with her soft and helping me to form my letters and later my numbers. Being a bright child, she could never figure out why her daughter who loved to read, was such a poor reader. And when it came to spelling, forget it. I loved music, art, history and english. In my mind, I could see history come to life: it wasn't just so much imforamtion on a page: I was there.
And yet, it wasn't until I went to Nurse's Aide School that one of my teacher's suggested I was tested for dyslexia. Following her advise, I went to the school counselor and took the test.
I failed and was over joyed.
I was severly dylexic: not stupid Both the relief of myself and mother.
When I found out I had dyslexia, I realize I'd been handed a a gift. Dyslexic people are visual, multi-dimensional thinkers. We are intuitive and highly creative, and excel at hands-on learning. Because we think in pictures, it is sometimes hard for us to understand letters, numbers, symbols, and written words. It's like being Alice in The Looking Glass: we just see the world differently. Like my box of 120 Crayola crayons, I just have more colours to chose from.
But it isn't without headaches. Being dyslexic (along with poor eye sight) stops me from driving, or becoming an R.N as I had once dreamed. It halted my going into the military.
But I never use it as an excuse for poor grammer, spelling, dance or even learning hebrew. Just makes the subjects more challenging and stretches me. And having a loving, supportive husband, who, when he isn't defending our freedom, as a science teacher, doesn't hurt :)
We are havesome form of limitation on our lives. It might not be dyslexia, but something that stops us from reaching for one tiny star, in favorite of a bigger one