by Azalea Flores
“OK, and now an adjective.”
“Um…squishy.”
“Ew, why squishy?”
“Who cares just read it, child!”
“Okay, ‘A vacation is when a trip, no, is when you take a trip to some sparkly place, and your, wait no, with your Blue family. Usually, you can go -”
“Where did you get ‘Can’? It doesn’t say that.”
Taking out words, replacing them, skipping them, switching them, it just came easier than it was supposed to be.
To tell people I love reading and writing to follow it up with “Oh yeah I’m dyslexic”, is confusing clearly. I’m like a sailor who can’t swim. It’s definitely not easy, and growing up, it wasn’t either. Once I brought it up to my mom, who told me I just needed to read more. I knew something was wrong, but I just took it as just a normal thing that happens to lots of people. Later, I learned she knew from the moment I started reading that I did things a little differently but never paid any mind to it because I was still a kid. However, when I grew up I continued having a hard time spelling, reading out loud, and even trying to figure out my left and right then she started paying attention. I asked her if I could take a test to determine whether or not I was dyslexic so that I could get some extra help in class if I needed it. But that was the thing, she didn’t want me to be considered “academically impaired” or needing extra assistance. So I never officially tested for dyslexia. Technically there is no medical documentation for this entire article.
Around middle school, I had average and above-average writing and composition comprehension in English, but I barely met the required level for reading. It was hard for me. I always had to scour for audio versions of readings we had to do, otherwise, I had a hard time following along. Then my freshman year of high school, Covid hit and it honestly made things easier for me. With everything going digital, it was easier to have access to extensions and resources that helped with reading. I still use them to this day, especially now that I’m in college, reading is all that you’re doing.
Now the lingering question is, “Azalea are you gonna get tested?”, maybe. For the past 14 years, I’ve been in school, I’ve made do, and I can live with that. I’ve figured it out, I’ve managed and I’ve learned to work with it. I guess the reality is that I don’t really care enough to get legitimate medical assistance for my dyslexia.
The first time I heard about dyslexia was during that episode of Shake It Up on Disney Channel when Cece (Bella Thorne) and Rocky (Zendaya) were arguing and Bella Thorne sat on the stairs and began to cry and said “I’m dyslexic, Rocky!”. Clearly, I had no idea what she was talking about and assumed it was a type of cancer. Then later Bella Thorne would do infomercials about dyslexia and her experiences. Maybe it was a blessing I saw those infomercials because I would reflect and think, wait that happens to me too. I remember vividly she said, “My parents made me read street signs on the freeway to help me practice!” child me thought that was genius, so I did it too, except it wasn’t out loud. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself.
Obviously, I wasn’t the only one who saw that episode or the mini commercials with Bella Thorne so when I told my elementary school friends “I’m dyslexic” and children always evil in nature, “No you’re not! You’re just saying that cause of Cece!”. Alright. I didn’t say anything about it after that until high school. In high school, I made a friend who I learned was dyslexic as well. We bonded over illiteracy, and we’re still friends to this day. Truly what they say about the power of finding people who relate is real. Struggling alone is a hard thing to overcome but it’s possible. Finding your people, finding solutions, and finding a way to adapt. My experience doesn’t speak for everyone and it shouldn’t but I want it to shed light on the idea that if you’re skeptical about some aspects of yourself, you’re not crazy.