Throughout my life, I have struggled with processing information, and from an early age, education felt overwhelming and exhausting. Learning never came easily to me, and I quickly realised that I had to work far harder than others just to keep up. By the age of 14, I understood that if I wanted to achieve anything, it would only be through relentless effort, resilience, and determination. I was not a student who could sit in a classroom, absorb information, and apply it with ease. Instead, I went home each day and spent hours reteaching myself lessons in ways that made sense to me, often feeling frustrated, isolated, and misunderstood.

Throughout my school years, no one recognised that I was dyslexic. I moved through the education system without answers or support, carrying a quiet belief that I simply was not as capable as everyone else.

When I arrived at university, those feelings intensified. Surrounded by students who appeared confident and academically secure, I felt lost and inadequate. After years of struggle, I was finally diagnosed with dyslexia at the age of 19. While the diagnosis brought relief and clarity, it also confirmed the challenges I had faced for so long. My difficulties included spelling, reading efficiency, auditory memory, speed of working, and speed of information processing — all of which made learning a daily battle.

Despite this, I never gave up. I learned to adapt, to persevere, and to believe in myself when it felt easier not to. Through sheer determination and an unshakable desire to succeed, I completed my university degree and went on to achieve a postgraduate qualification, qualifying as a teacher in 2011.

However, a dyslexic child who becomes a dyslexic adult does not suddenly change. The challenges do not disappear, and neither does the emotional impact of growing up feeling different. Throughout my career as a teacher, I have worked alongside highly academic professionals who, while exceptional at what they do, could never fully understand what it feels like to struggle in the way I once did — and still do. At times, this left me feeling unseen and unheard.

Alongside my learning difficulties, I was also navigating family challenges and often feeling unsafe in many areas of my life, all while trying to manage the overwhelming emotions that come with being a teenager. It was an incredibly challenging time, and much of it was faced alone.

Yet those experiences shaped who I am today, strengthening my empathy, resilience, and understanding of others. Looking back, I can see how powerful it would have been to have someone to turn to during that time — someone outside my family who truly understood, listened without judgement, and offered reassurance. That understanding now drives me to be that person for others, offering the support, belief, and hope that can make a lasting difference.

Now, I want to be that person I once needed. I want to be the person your child can talk to without fear of judgement, someone they can feel comfortable with, safe with, and truly understood by. I want your child to know they are not alone, that their struggles do not define their ability, and that with the right support, belief, and understanding, they can achieve more than they ever thought possible.