I Need My Child With Dyslexia To Know How Amazing He Is

I see your slumped shoulders and head down when you leave school.

I see you reciting your presentation from memory, even though the words are right in front of you.

I see you at the library, paging through Where’s Waldo, and trying to hide it from your peers with their chapter books.

I see you cracking jokes, stalling, making excuses and sometimes getting in trouble to avoid embarrassment related to your learning differences.

I see you collapse into bed, exhausted, at the end of every school day.

And I wish the world would see you, too. Not just a troublemaker who can’t sit still. Who wears black jeans and hoodies every day. The jokester who avoids reading in front of people.

I wish they could see your heart. How you defend your little brother and anyone who’s being picked on. How you swallow your pride to ask for help, and how you’re the first to jump up and help someone else.

You open doors, carry groceries, shovel the driveway, and clean your room without being asked. You’re incredibly perceptive and can see in my eye if I’m having a bad day — and you always stop and ask, “What’s wrong, Mama?”

I see your tireless hard work and struggle. I see your frustration and how it sometimes boils into rage, and I wish there was more I could do to help you.

You may laugh when someone makes fun of your handwriting or spelling, but I see the hurt in your face. And I know you’re trying your best, which is all I could ever ask of you.

I see you, baby. And I think you’re incredible.

Keep up the struggle and hold your head up high. You’re amazing, and someday I just know the world is gonna see what I see in you, too.