My name is Sally Bassett. I am RCN Council member for the South East Region and RCN Oxfordshire Branch secretary. This is the first time I have publicly shared my special gift as a person with dyslexia.

This personal blog reflects my journey to becoming someone who no longer feels I must hide my differences. Dyslexia doesn’t go away, but I can see it now not as a deficit but as giving me a way to see patterns in the world that others may not be able to see.

So, I haven't always framed my dyslexia as a special gift; I know many people who might be struggling with dyslexia may not see it as a gift at all. It is only very recently that I came to view the different ways my brain is wired as giving me an asset that others may not have. As someone from the baby boomer generation, dyslexia and other forms of neurodiversity were not something that was recognised, which means people like me who struggled were often labelled as being a bit ‘thick’.

I spent most of my early education feeling confused and frankly terrified of being told off or shamed in class for the things that I found difficult, such as arithmetic, mathematics and spelling. I was often placed in the lowest capability group and rarely rewarded or encouraged by teachers for my attempts at schoolwork. In my senior school years, the comments on my school reports generally said that if Sally only concentrated more and talked less, she would do well! If only they had known how confused and frustrated I was. 

I think my teachers were perplexed by my doing well in class discussions, asking good questions, and comprehending the subject, even in maths, but then struggling with recall, writing, and exam work. There were never any questions I might need to learn differently from others; if you didn’t learn like others you were often discounted or seen as a disappointment. I was, however, fortunate to have parents who had high aspirations and expectations for me and provided encouragement and self-belief that I could do the things I wanted to. 

When I left school, I applied to train as a nurse but didn't have the required academic grades to become a registered nurse (RN). I was told I didn't have what it would take academically to undertake a three-year training, and I would be better at being a practical nurse, that is, a state-enrolled nurse (SEN). As soon as I completed my SEN training, I took what was then known as the DC test, which enabled me to retrain as an RN. 

I went on to become qualified as an intensive care nurse and gain a diploma in nursing. It always took me three times longer than anybody else to produce written work, and I struggled with it and the handwritten presentation of poor spelling, missing words and chaotically organised ideas. I lived for a long time with a sense of failing. I did not consider myself stupid or inadequate, but I somehow seemed to be when judged by the currency of the time regarding academic achievement. 

As my career progressed, I unconsciously found strategies for coping with these challenges, which led to developing and leaning on my interpersonal skills, emotional intelligence (EI), and ability to build relationships. This enabled me to advocate well for others, develop and lead teams and work compassionately and effectively as a team member.

A breakthrough in my coping strategies came when technology became affordable, and I could use word processing to produce written work on a computer. My written work could now be easily and endlessly reorganised so my ideas and arguments could be logically arranged and spelling and grammar checked. The awareness of dyslexia and ideas about different forms of intelligence, such as EI, were also becoming more commonplace, though I never declared to anyone that dyslexia applied to me.  

When my daughter started school, it became clear that she was struggling with all the same things as I had. The education system still offered very little support, so independently, we secured help from an educational psychologist, and she was assessed as having dyslexia. This was transformative for me as I recognised and confirmed that my struggles were because of dyslexia; it explained why my daughter and I were wired the way we were.

The more I learned, the more I understood that this is not because we are not intellectually able but that we learn differently. Many creative and successful people, such as Leonardo De Vinci, Albert Einstein, and Robert Kennedy, may have had dyslexia, so dyslexics are gifted and in good company!

I am sad to say there was still an enormous stigma associated with being labelled as dyslexic, and the school advised us not to apply for additional support for her. Having lived with the stigma myself, we didn’t want this for her, so we researched and employed learning strategies, used the support and materials of the Dyslexia Association and much more. I hope that children today have a more positive education experience and that the nursing profession, educationalists and employers are now aware and taking action to be more inclusive and supportive. 

Travelling the dyslexia journey with my daughter and advocating for her and others has continued to build my confidence and self-identity. I have come to value how I learn, which means the patterns I see in people's behaviours, relationships, and information inform my intellectual observation. I now talk openly, as I am here, that I have dyslexia and the strategies that I use, such as using the read-aloud function in Word, using AI such as Grammarly and giving myself time between drafting and submitting written documents, even emails, so that I can spot errors.

Being dyslexic has shaped but not defined me; for me, it's an explanation, not an excuse. I have tackled the challenges of completing a master's and a doctorate in nursing. It has taught me to be resilient in dealing with setbacks, motivated me to find a way around problems and given me the power to be empathetic with others and see the world differently, I have made friends with my dyslexia and now welcome it as a superpower.