KATIE MARIE

Here in the UK, its Dyslexia Awareness Week.

I wrote a little ditty about my experience with dyslexia for my work’s Equality and Inclusion Network. I thought I’d repost it here as it is a message that’s very important to me.

You can have dyslexia and be successful; one does not obliterate the other.   

Success, Spelling, and Subtitles: My Life with Dyslexia (and Why That’s Not a Contradiction)

“You can’t be dyslexic,” an old boss once told me, with a genuinely confused look on their face. “You’ve got a law degree.”

Ah, yes, because obviously, dyslexia and academic achievement are like oil and water, cats and cucumbers, Piers Morgan and humility, totally incompatible.

Except… they’re not. At all.

Let’s get something straight: dyslexia is more than a cute little spelling hiccup. Sure, spelling can be involved; I’ve personally committed war crimes against the English language. But dyslexia is more than mixing up ‘their’ and ‘there’ (and sometimes ‘thier,’ let’s be honest).

Dyslexia can mean difficulty processing auditory information (yep, I’m that person who watches films in their native language with the subtitles on). It can mean struggling to tell left from right (my Satnav gets yelled at a lot in my car). It can mean working memory issues, like your brain is running too many tabs at once and crashing the system. Grammar? Makes as much sense to me as a cat trying to do long division. Reading takes longer, so does writing, and sometimes my brain helpfully decides to swap words around mid-sentence or hide them completely to keep me on my toes.

And yet, here I am.

I do have a law degree, I even tacked on a Master’s degree, because why not double down on the chaos? I spent nearly a decade working as a Legal Executive, and currently I work in Business Intelligence surrounded by spreadsheets, policies and data. In my spare time (ha, ha), I’m pursuing a PhD in literature and creative writing.

But let’s be clear: my journey was not smooth (it still isn’t). I didn’t sail through school with colour-coded notes and A+ exam scores. I crawled, resat exams, occasionally kicked, and frequently cried. I got very familiar with the phrase “you just need to try harder,” as if I were lounging on a chaise longue while everyone else worked hard.

And that’s my point. The struggle wasn’t with the work; it was with people not understanding the way my brain works. Because dyslexia looks different for everyone, it’s not a single, cookie-cutter diagnosis; it’s a spectrum of quirks, strengths, and challenges, and everyone’s version of it is their own unique flavour of spicy chaos.

But here’s the truth I want everyone to know: Dyslexia is not a barrier to success.

Success doesn’t come in one shape or form. It’s not just degrees and job titles (although yes, we can do those too), success might be:

• Building your own side hustle from the ground up
• Raising kind, emotionally intelligent kids
• Creating incredible art, music, or stories
• Being the go-to problem solver on your team
• Learning a new skill despite people saying you can’t
• Simply getting through a tough day with your head held high

Success is personal; it’s whatever feels like growth to you, and dyslexia cannot stop you. It can make it more complicated, but it alone cannot stop us.

So, the next time someone says, “You can’t do X, you’re dyslexic,” or “You can’t be dyslexic, you’ve done X,” smile and say: “You clearly have no idea how brilliant dyslexic brains can be.”

Then go back to doing amazing things, with the subtitles on, of course.