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In the 2nd grade or 3rd grade the private school I attended administered the CTP (Comprehensive Testing Program), or as my peers and I nicknamed it the Child Torture Program. I always seemed to score very poorly on these tests year after year but the teachers were unsure why since I was a bright child who seemed to be succeeding in school otherwise. I was always very talkative in class, often times I would get so excited that I would interrupt the teacher or my peers even though it was unintentional. And on unit tests in various subjects I seemed to do well, although I always had to work harder at math.
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When most of us hear the word limitation, we think of something negative. In our society, a limitation is often thought of as a barrier or blockade, something that prevents us from achieving our full potential and the cookie cutter idea of what it means to have success. Limitations are to be overcome and avoided at all costs, and as children and adults most of us fear the idea of something holding us back. For most of my life, I too shared in this understanding and clung tightly to this value at all costs.
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One of the quirkiest aspects of NVLD is the motor skills deficit. We can speak with the highest confidence, then walk away tripping over our own feet. My weakness is left turns when walking. It never fails: I misjudge the angle and bang my elbow on the door frame or jam my knuckles on the door knob, and sometimes both at the same time on especially clumsy days.
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I’m unsure if I’m working hard enough. Until you tell me.
I’m unsure if I’m doing the job the right way. Until you tell me.
I’m unsure you want to be my friend. Until you tell me.
I’m unsure you’re being serious (or not). Until you tell me.
I’m unsure where to begin. Won’t you help me?
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I was five years old approaching six and I could read and recite dinosaur names. I knew deinonychus, brachiosaurus, and ankylosaurus among dozens of others. I don’t know how I learned to pronounce them. My parents tried and failed. I corrected them, and my mom called me Professor after the character on Gilligan’s Island.

I couldn’t tie my shoes.
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I was diagnosed in my fifties, but not with NLD, with a cognitive disorder, NOS. The neuropsychiatrist who tested me said he knew immediately that I had NLD, but since NLD is not recognized by the APA, it was categorized as a cognitive disorder. So why isn’t NLD recognized? If this disability, and that is what is NLD is, a disability, has specific symptoms and traits that definitely identify those of us who have it, why isn’t it recognized by the APA? I had a nervous breakdown in the fourth grade because of NLD. Too smart in reading and grammar, too stupid in math, and my parents and teachers concluded I had a character flaw. Decades of failure. Failure in school, in jobs, in relationships. The failure is very real, as are the symptoms. But according to the APA, NLD isn’t a real thing? Expletive deleted, APA.
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I watched you from the sidelines advocating on my behalf. I watched you with fists clenched and tears in your eyes when the psychologist tried to diminish my worth. I remember the piercing words “low percentile” like nails on a chalk board being repeated over and over again. I remember the decision you made to put me into special education, the extra money you spent on tutoring, and the plans you made to ensure I made it to post-secondary education. I remember it all.
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