Confessions of a Dyslexic


exercise booksI was always quite quiet when I was a young kid. Riddled with fear, I remember taking naps in the Head Mistresses office of infant school, she could see I was a highly stressed child. The anxiety of academia was just too much. I sat on a table in my first year of school with 3 others, we were the table that couldn’t spell our names. We were the yellow table, the underdogs. As pages were ripped out of our exercise books and our tin of flash cards grew we began to realise we might not be as clever as the other kids. As I journeyed through junior school the humiliation of staying behind after class because my spelling wasn’t good enough was becoming unbearable. I was moved into a class without my friends as they thought I would do better. Alone and feeling thick I decided I didn’t want…

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