The Strength of Vulnerable

I started writing my Thursday blogs to reach other professionals in tech who have adult dyslexia, not to be praised for my “vulnerability.” No one praises a fighter for being vulnerable enough to lose on a mat, or an athlete for losing on a field, so why should someone praise me for stepping into a public space to write about and eventually speak about being an adult with a learning handicap?

None of this started with a blog. It started in a training room. One company I worked for put its engineers through DiSC, a personality test that focused on ways for the teams to communicate better with each other. That training literally changed my working relationship with a co-worker, who turned into a friend once we understood how to allow each other to troubleshoot.

I am verbal, he is not. I needed to speak and draw the problem while he would write it and review logs. I am dyslexic, he isn’t. Neurodiversity was not the focal point of DiSC training, personalities were. Being an engineer, I kept the framework, and years later understood that my personality was impacted by my reading confidence.

I was never brain bullied at that company. In the ones before and sadly after, I was. I was called confusing. Ridiculed for the number of misspelled words. Discredited because a single missing word made the whole body of work worthless.

There are people who explode at work. In a tragic irony, in that emotion-filled moment everything comes out unfiltered and crystal clear.

I didn’t explode. I found another job and left the one where I was being bullied.

So at some point it’s not about whether I want to be vulnerable. I have passed the point of fear, of freezing up when challenged, of being embarrassed into silence. What you are thanking me for is what was left when the fear ran out.

Writing the blog is a professional way to flip someone off without naming who’s getting the finger, while comforting someone else who may be at their breaking point. Writing has taught me how to correct ignorance through empathy and not blame. It took being vulnerable to have the strength to express confidence. It takes confidence to say no immediately.

I learned that people who know I am dyslexic will intentionally try to gaslight me. When I see it, I know what I said and I know it was understood, so now I tell them no. I know what I said, and if you misunderstood, you should have said something. Since you were the only one who was confused, it’s not my problem, it’s your understanding. I can help you understand, but you have to help me know what you don’t understand so we can bridge that gap.

Saying no immediately means it never builds to an explosion, and once it stopped building I became understood.