Mali Mehl, a civil engineering student at Cardiff University, shares what it was like to grow up with dyslexia.
Dyslexia is often misunderstood.
The few times it’s shown in movies and TV, it’s often in connection to dullness or laziness.
Having dyslexia doesn’t make you stupid, just as prescription glasses don’t make you a genius.
And like with prescription glasses, there isn’t one blueprint of what eases the challenges caused by dyslexia.
Some people I’ve met have been quick to tell me to do things in certain ways, because it worked for a relative or acquaintance.
I know they mean well, but I’ve lived my entire life with this disability and have found methods that work for me.
ICE Benevolent Fund launches dyslexia service
The ICE BenFund has partnered with the British Dyslexia Association to make dyslexia assessments more accessible for ICE members and their families.
How I knew I had dyslexia
Growing up, the signs of my dyslexia were more than a little obvious, but I didn’t get a diagnosis until I was older.
I struggled learning to read, and when I finally did, I worked for dear life to improve my reading speed.
My spelling was also all over the place, and still is at times.
Disheartened by the red pen
As a child, it was so disheartening to repeatedly get back essays and glossary tests marked in red pen. They looked like red and black abstract art.
If only I had the dyslexia diagnosis to fall back on to reassure myself that I wasn’t stupid for not getting it right.
I could’ve saved myself many tearful days.
Why I didn’t get diagnosed sooner
But I didn’t get a diagnosis until I was 15 years old.
This was because, despite despairing at spelling and reading, I liked school, and I loved the natural sciences and maths – which later led me to engineering.
I worked hard because I found it interesting and liked learning, and the results were impressive.
My compensating interest was interpreted as my disability not being severe enough to warrant a diagnosis, and so I had to work hard.
At times it felt like swimming with weights – if I reduced my effort I would drown.
What the dyslexia diagnosis did for me
When I finally pushed to get properly tested for dyslexia, I got the diagnosis without doubt.
It was liberating.
Not just because of the extra support it enabled, but because it gave me a new sense of self-worth.
I could reassure myself that I wasn’t stupid for getting the red and black abstract art at school.
The panic of reading out loud wasn’t as crippling, and if I shared my notes, I could excuse the bad spelling.
I’m no longer swimming with weights, or drowning.
Now I’m running with weights – still heavy, still at a disadvantage, but I won’t suffocate if I decide to take it easy.
Dyslexia is a hidden disability
In many ways dyslexia is a hidden disability, which means it affects smaller things on a day-to-day basis.
The challenges I face today no longer extend to tests or essays as extra time on exams and spellchecks software also helps.
Rather, it affects more mundane things, like watching films or driving to new places, when my reading speed isn’t up to the task.
Subtitles
For movies, I’ve long ago given up on subtitles as they scroll too quickly, which in the end is one of the reasons I forced myself to learn English properly as a non-native speaker.
The challenge is now to enjoy movies from other countries in other languages.
It’s still a work in progress.
Signs (roads, stations, museums, etc)
Similarly, reading road signs when finding my way to new places is challenging as it requires a reading speed I don’t have.
This is also possible to adapt to, if I don’t let the stress get to me.
Reading arrival times and platforms for trains, or informational plaques at museums can be challenging.
These are times I feel self-conscious about my slow reading speed and fear I’m getting in the way of others around me.
It’s at times like these that I’m happy that I can lean back on my diagnosis and reassure myself that it’s just my disability and not me being slow.
It’s not all bad
Even though dyslexia can be very challenging and frustrating, it’s not all bad.
The best thing about getting the dyslexia diagnosis is using it for humour.
More than once, I've spelled something and read words so wrong that sentences get an entire new meaning.
And in most cases, it’s unbearably funny.
Leaning into it and playing off it for jokes is the best tool the diagnosis has allowed me.
So not all the tears I’ve shed over my dyslexia have been due to sadness. Recently most have been due to laughter.
Making it easier to access dyslexia assessments
In the UK, dyslexia assessments can't be pursued through the NHS, falling within the remit of private healthcare only.
Diagnostic assessments vary in price, costing between £600 and £900 per person on average.
The BenFund will be asking service users for a nominal contribution towards the assessment, based on circumstances.
In the case of a low income, the referral will be fully funded by the BenFund.
