Growing up with undiagnosed NVLD and ADHD was deeply challenging. While a few teachers were supportive, most students did not recognize my struggles, and I often felt ostracized within school social structures—from elementary school through high school. Because my learning disabilities were not diagnosed until my sophomore year, many teachers approached me with preconceived notions, labeling my difficulties with listening, following directions, interpreting nonverbal cues, and fine motor tasks as me being “difficult” or a “challenge,” rather than recognizing that I needed additional support.
When a child is labeled this way at such a young age, they often learn to shrink themselves and feel unworthy. I internalized the belief that my struggles were not due to NVLD and ADHD, but because I, as a person, was somehow not enough compared to my peers.
At ten years old, I found a space where I finally felt socially valued: mentoring programs like SOAR, where I worked with students on the autism spectrum. For the first time, I saw the direct impact I could have on others’ lives, and it helped me realize that I had purpose. From that point on, I sought out similar programs and began working with children with special needs at fifteen. These experiences were both service-driven and healing, showing me that I mattered and that my presence made a difference.
By the time I entered college, this work became more than proof of worth—it became a meaningful part of who I am. Looking back, I wish I could tell my younger self that worthiness is not something we earn through meeting societal expectations; it is something we inherently possess. The impact I made did not define my value—it reflected my capacity to heal and connect, which is just one facet of who I am.
I would tell my younger self not to let discrimination define her worth, but to recognize her impact as evidence of strength. I would remind her of all that she has accomplished, not to prove herself to others, but to honor her own self-worth. Our perceived inabilities can become strengths when we build upon them with compassion and understanding.
To anyone walking a similar path: your struggles do not define you—your resilience, growth, and the impact you create do.
