In life, we’re buckled into the driver’s seat. We get to look up at the horizon or down at the dotted white stripes to stay in our lane. The bumper ridges sound the alarm if drifting out of place. The side-view mirrors give you a view of what’s going on beside you. The rearview lets you see what’s passed. The mirrors offer context. They help to make sure there isn’t a cop chasing you down if you’re speeding.
After graduating from college, I felt like I was racing into my future with that cop hot on my bumper. This is what dyslexia was for me.
It was relentless. I felt acknowledging that would hold me back. If I drove faster, I would either:
a.) Be stopped and would have to pay an even larger fine in life
b.) Outrun the cop
I decided to stop. I would take the fine as it was. I could learn other ways to drive. In this case, it was learning how to read.
I thought I was stupid for trying to outrun it. I neglected the fact I couldn’t read the same way as everyone else for 22 years. It doesn’t go away. Though, with the help of my tutor, I learned it gets better.