Dyslexia Isn’t Rare. Our Understanding of It Is.

It’s the most common language-based learning difference, and yet it remains one of the least understood—especially in adulthood. Most of us learned about dyslexia through stories of children struggling to read. But what happens when those children grow up? When they become someone’s partner, someone’s parent, someone’s spouse?

That’s where the silence begins.

Gender matters.

Although boys are more frequently diagnosed with dyslexia, research shows that dyslexia affects men and women in nearly equal numbers. The difference? Girls and women are more likely to mask it—compensating with social skills, memorization, or perfectionism.

They’re less likely to be disruptive in school and more likely to be missed entirely.

In men, dyslexia may show up more visibly—through reading struggles, processing delays, or classroom frustration.

In women, it may show up more invisibly—through anxiety, burnout, or a lifelong fear of not being “smart enough.”

And because men are diagnosed more often, women frequently go undiagnosed until adulthood—if ever.

That means many adult women are carrying the effects of dyslexia without knowing it.

And many adult men are carrying shame from a label that was never fully explained.

Either way, the result is often the same: a profound sense of being misunderstood.

So what does dyslexia look like in adult relationships?

Here are just a few examples:

Misremembering the order of events

You say something upsetting. I react with frustration. All you remember is my “blow-up.”

Sequencing is a real challenge for many people with dyslexia. It’s not manipulation. It’s a processing difference.

Struggling to recall shared plans or conversations

We agreed on something yesterday, but you don’t remember. I feel dismissed. You feel attacked.

Working memory lapses can make even heartfelt moments vanish under pressure.

Missing nonverbal or emotional cues

You didn’t notice I was overwhelmed. I needed support. You thought I was fine.

Dyslexia can affect more than written words—it can impact how we read faces, tones, and unspoken needs.

Delayed or mismatched responses

I shared something vulnerable. You paused, or answered with logic instead of empathy.

Now I feel exposed.

Processing time and emotional attunement can fall out of sync, even when love is present.

And yet, we rarely make space for these possibilities.

Instead, we say:

- He’s not paying attention.

- She’s too sensitive.

- They don’t care.

- I must be the problem.

Why this matters

When 1 in 5 people are affected by dyslexia, this isn’t a fringe issue.

It’s woven into the fabric of our daily lives—especially in love, where communication is everything.

In my own relationship, the diagnosis had always been there—my husband was identified as dyslexic at eight years old. But I didn’t understand how it could shape emotional interactions until much later. I didn’t realize that the reason we kept missing each other might be something neurological, not personal.

And the moment that changed everything came after a particularly painful argument. In a state of near despair, I typed the words adult dyslexia into a search bar. What I read hit me like a punch to the stomach. I let out a cry I didn’t know was in me.

Because suddenly—it all made sense.

That moment, on April 9, became the beginning of everything.

The book.
The website.
The course.

The new language we were still trying to build together.

This is why I share these numbers.

Because understanding the statistics helps us understand each other. And understanding each other is what relationships are built on.

We need more visibility around adult dyslexia—not just in educational settings, but in therapy rooms, family homes, and long conversations between people trying to love each other better.

Because when we name the unseen, we can finally begin to meet each other there.