Seeing the World Differently: My Dyslexia Journey
My name is Marie, and I have lived my whole life with dyslexia, though for many years I didn’t have a name for the challenges I faced. As a child, I often felt like I was falling behind — struggling to keep up with reading, writing, and spelling while others around me seemed to breeze through. Dare I say it, I often felt a little bit thick. But what I’ve come to learn is that dyslexia doesn’t mean you’re less capable — it means your brain works differently, and that difference can be a superpower.
My official diagnosis came during the early years of my career with Bath and North East Somerset Council. It was a turning point. Suddenly, the pieces started to fit together. I wasn’t broken — I was wired uniquely. And that uniqueness brought creativity, problem-solving skills, and a fresh perspective that others often missed.
Technology has been a game-changer for me. I know what I want to say but getting it down on paper can be time-consuming and mentally exhausting. I read, reread, and reread again — and still miss things. But with tools like spellcheckers and dictation and reading software, I’ve found ways to express myself more confidently and efficiently.
As a Team Leader, I often work with large documents and detailed communications. This used to feel overwhelming, but I’ve grown in confidence and now tackle them with the support of technology and a fantastic network of managers and supervisors who understand my dyslexia. I’m also happy to ask colleagues to bullet-point key information for me rather than send bulky emails — it’s a small adjustment that makes a big difference.
Books have always been a source of joy, even if reading them was a challenge. In recent years, I’ve embraced audiobooks — listening while driving or walking my dogs. It’s a way to immerse myself in stories without the pressure of decoding every word. It’s liberating.
I now proudly declare that I have dyslexia. In work environments, if I’m asked to write on a board or present something written in front of others, I’m confident enough to say, “This one’s not for me.” But if you need someone to think creatively, solve a tricky problem, or spot something others haven’t — I’m your person.
One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that it’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to say, “I need support.” And it’s more than okay to be proud of who you are. Dyslexia doesn’t define me, but it has shaped me — and I wouldn’t change that.
To anyone seeking a diagnosis or supporting someone who is: ask questions, be curious. Neurodiversity is not a limitation — it’s a different way of seeing the world. And sometimes, that difference is exactly what the world needs.
Marie Bushby, 26th September 2025