Finding Out I Was Dyslexic at 30—The Struggle, the Diagnosis, and Taking Control

Going to university at 30 wasn’t something I had always planned for. In fact, for most of my life, I never thought it would be possible.

I didn’t learn to read until I was 13, and when I first sat my GCSE in English, I got an E. That failure reinforced everything I had already believed about myself—that I just wasn’t good enough, that I wasn’t smart enough, and that I would never be able to keep up academically.

But I didn’t give up.

I took an access course to help me get into university, and I re-sat my English GCSE. Passing that exam was a huge achievement. I finally felt like I had overcome something that had held me back for so long. I had worked so hard to get there, and when I was finally accepted into university, I was determined to make the most of it.

But no amount of determination could have prepared me for just how difficult that first year would be.

The First Year—Why Was Everything Still So Hard?

University was overwhelming. I had expected it to be tough, but I hadn’t expected to feel like I was constantly drowning.

No matter how much effort I put in, my essays came back with the same feedback—great ideas, but poor structure and grammar. I spent hours reading and re-reading academic texts, but I couldn’t seem to retain the information. And when it came to writing, I struggled to put my thoughts into words in a way that made sense.

I was working harder than ever, but I was still failing.

One assignment, in particular, was keeping me on the edge of losing my place on the course. I had already failed it twice. If I didn’t pass this time, I would be out.

That’s when my lecturer gave me a lifeline.

“Hand it in a month early,” she said. “I’ll take a look at it and see if there’s anything we can do.”

I handed it in, expecting to get feedback on how to improve my writing. But instead, she came back to me the very next day with something I never expected.

“I think you’re dyslexic.”

The Moment Everything Changed

At first, I didn’t know how to react.

I went home that day feeling completely overwhelmed. I had spent my entire life believing I just wasn’t good enough—that I wasn’t trying hard enough, that I needed to push myself more. And now, I was being told that there had been a reason all along.

That day, I let myself wallow. I was upset, frustrated, and exhausted.

But the next morning, something inside me shifted.

I thought, Right, you need to do something about this.

Taking Charge—Finding the Right Tools

I started researching everything I could about dyslexia. If this was something I had been dealing with my whole life, I needed to understand it. I needed to find ways to work with my brain instead of against it.

I looked up apps and tools that could help. I downloaded ClaroSpeak for text-to-speech support, so I could listen to my notes instead of struggling to read them. I also started using Dragon Dictation, which allowed me to speak my thoughts instead of battling to get them down on paper.

And for the first time, studying didn’t feel impossible.

Instead of fighting to write essays, I could dictate them and edit later.

Instead of re-reading the same paragraph over and over, I could listen to it instead.

Instead of feeling like I was always behind, I was finally keeping up.

Finally Getting a Diagnosis

After my lecturer’s suggestion, I went for an official dyslexia assessment.

The results were clear: I was dyslexic.

For a moment, I felt relief. There was finally an explanation for why reading and writing had always been so difficult. But then came the frustration.

Why had it taken 30 years for someone to notice?

Looking back, the signs had been there my whole life.

I had been in special needs classes until I was 13, but they assumed it was because of my hearing difficulties. I was always on the borderline of dyslexia, but I had never been diagnosed. When I was seven, I was actually given a dyslexia test—but I failed it because I couldn’t read. That fact still baffles me to this day.

So instead of getting the help I needed, I was left to struggle.

Moving Forward With a New Perspective

Once I had my diagnosis, everything started making sense. The struggles I had faced weren’t because I wasn’t capable—they were because I had never been given the right support.

And once I had the right tools, everything changed.

It didn’t mean university suddenly became easy. I still had to work hard. But for the first time, I wasn’t running on empty. I wasn’t forcing myself to learn in a way that didn’t work for me. I was finally learning in a way that made sense.

What I Wish I Had Known Sooner

I wish someone had recognised my dyslexia earlier. I wish that test when I was seven had been taken seriously. I wish I had known, growing up, that my struggles weren’t because I wasn’t trying hard enough.

But more than anything, I wish I had been kinder to myself.

For years, I blamed myself for not being able to keep up. I carried so much shame over my difficulties with reading and writing. But the truth is, dyslexia isn’t a lack of intelligence—it’s just a different way of processing information.

And with the right support, there is no reason why dyslexic people can’t thrive.

For Anyone Struggling Right Now

If you’ve ever felt like you’re not good enough because of how you learn, please know this:

You are good enough. You just need the right tools and support.

If you’ve always struggled with reading and writing and never understood why, it’s never too late to get tested. Finding out I was dyslexic at 30 changed my life. It gave me the confidence I had spent years thinking I’d never have.

And all it took was one lecturer—one person—to finally see what had been there all along.

Let’s Keep the Conversation Going

Have you been diagnosed with dyslexia later in life? I’d love to hear your story. Drop a comment below or share this post with someone who might need it.

And if this blog resonated with you, don’t forget to like and subscribe for more posts about neurodiversity, parenting, and education. Let’s make sure no one else has to wait 30 years to get the support they deserve.

How has a failure, or apparent failure, set you up for later success?