BEING DYSLEXIC.…

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Dyslexia can be defined as a disorder that affects a child’s reading and writing abilities.

As most of you know, I am dyslexic. If you follow me on my blog I mentioned it in my previous post.

Be dyslexic was something I discovered late in life. I don’t blame anyone for not noticing, but growing up with it was traumatic. I couldn’t read nor write until I was eight years of age.

While I was in primary school I didn’t have any friends, basically because I was dumb. The other children made fun of me and looked at me as stupid. I had imaginary friends I talked to not real friends.

I was also a good pretender. I knew how to hide my feelings and change into a totally different character, it’s not something I love or proud of; is just something I had to do to hide all the pain I felt inside.

My parents thought something was wrong with me because I couldn’t read. I wanted to read story books but I couldn’t. my mum taught me most of the time, each second that passed while she taught me was a second of deep terror; because I missed anything, she’ll beat the living hell out of me. It’s just the way it is growing up as a Nigerian child. I was getting frustrated, she was getting frustrated. It was like a dead end in my situation.

Growing up was definitely not fun. I pretend outside that I was a spoilt princess but deep inside I felt dead. I don’t think anyone will ever understand how I have felt for years, I just had to find a way to move on.

Finally, the good thing with dyslexia is that it reduces with age, so I finally got a grip of reading and writing, but that traumatized little girl was still there. Well, I have moved on but I still struggle with dyslexia I don’t use it as an excuse not to perform well in my studies. It comes up once in a while sometimes I still confuses my spellings or sometimes everything just goes blank, but I still work with it.

I would like to be a spokesperson towards Dyslexia. I just won’t want anybody or young child to go through what I went through as a child.

 

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