I used to be so mad at my dyslexia–so mad it controlled my life, so frustrated I wasn’t normal, so annoyed I couldn’t even order an ice cream without stammering. It took me awhile to figure this out, but my dyslexia isn’t a curse or a burden. 

Monique Crane specialises in helping people with neurodiverse differences, she is dyslexic, dypspraxic and autisitc so understand the challenges faced, for further information see her website www.mccas.co.uk. She kindly agreed to share a post she made to support a parent... 

In year 4 at primary I remember his teacher preaching to me. "Your son is not dyslexic, he is just naughty and lazy!" Oh how I would love to go and see her having now paid for a full assessment at the begining of year 10 to let her know the result: as SEVERLY dyslexic! 

School was very difficult as in the late 40's there was no such thing as dyslexia. I knew I had a problem, my head was full of good ideas but because of my spelling I could not use them, also my memory was terrible so I struggled to keep up but managed to hide a lot of it. 

One child never picked up a pen, was the last to bring home a reading book from school and sat and cried or walked out of the class room when asked to write down his weekend ' news' on a Monday morning at primary school. One managed well until she was 7 and had no problem with reading and actually enjoyed it so much she was quite a prolific reader.