From the Girl Who Struggled to Read…to the Woman Who Won’t Stop Writing

Before I ever knew what resilience meant, I lived it.

In first grade, I could read — just not well, and certainly not confidently. Letters made sense one day and vanished the next. Sentences felt heavy. And nothing exposes your insecurities like silently praying the teacher won’t call your name… and she always does.

Eventually, I was pulled out for extra help. At seven years old, walking out of class felt like a spotlight on everything I believed was “wrong” with me. I didn’t know then that those moments weren’t evidence of a deficit — they were the first bricks in the foundation of who I’d become.

My parents never made me feel behind. They celebrated tiny victories, like making it

through a Clifford book without stumbling on every word. At the time, I only felt

embarrassment.

Now I see the truth:

Those early struggles weren’t punishment.

They were preparation.

WHEN READING FINALLY CLICKED

Once reading began to make sense — not magically, but steadily — everything shifted.

Suddenly, the Scholastic Book Fair was my Disneyland. I circled titles like they were treasure. I turned my bedroom into a mini library. And I carried books everywhere, especially one that became my world for a while:

Mandy by Julie Andrews.

A story about a girl searching for belonging, finding secret places to grow, and building something of her own.

Looking back, it makes perfect sense why I clung to it.

It was the first book that felt like me.

The girl who once needed a reading specialist had become the girl chasing stories on her own — not because reading came naturally, but because she’d tasted how deeply satisfying learning feels when it finally lands.

That specialist didn’t just teach me to read.

She taught me grit.

And that grit has carried me through everything since — my career, my leadership, my advocacy, my pivots, my persistence.

I learned early that success isn’t about talent.

It’s about tenacity.

THE FULL-CIRCLE MOMENT

Now, when I look at my home lined with overflowing bookcases — leadership books, memoirs, spiritual reads, personal growth, and novels — I smile.

Because the little girl who lagged behind…

became the woman who wrote a book of her own.

My story.

My voice.

My truth — in permanent ink.

Would I love learning this fiercely if those early years had been easy?

Would I write the way I do if I hadn’t first felt small in a classroom?

Would storytelling hold this much meaning if it hadn’t once felt out of reach?

I don’t know.

But I do know this:

The things that once embarrass us often become the things that shape our brilliance.

TAKEAWAY

Your early challenges don’t define you — they shape you.

What once made you feel behind might be exactly what prepares you to surge ahead later.

Those childhood insecurities?

They become the building blocks of courage.

Of voice.

Of empathy.

Of fire.

The girl who struggled to sound out sentences grew into the woman who writes to connect — and helps others feel seen.

READER REFLECTION

Think about something you struggled with as a child — reading, belonging, confidence, math, speaking up.

How has that challenge quietly sculpted the leader, parent, creator, friend, or human you are today?

Here’s my unfiltered truth:

Your early struggles weren’t detours.

They were directions.

And sometimes the thing that once made you feel “not enough” becomes your most powerful story later.