7 Things That Helped When We Couldn’t Seem to Hear Each Other
There were moments in our relationship where we simply couldn’t seem to hear each other—no matter how hard we tried. We'd sit at the same table, use the same words, even look into each other's eyes… and still walk away feeling misunderstood, unseen, or deeply alone.
5 Things That Made Me Stay (Even When It Was Hard)
Beneath the disorganization, the missed cues, the shutdowns—there was someone with deep integrity. Someone who loved me. Who wanted connection, even if he didn’t always know how to access it. I could feel the goodness in him. And that mattered.
3 Truths About Masking You Might Not See at First
Many people with ADHD or dyslexia are practiced at tuning in deeply during first impressions. It’s part of how they’ve learned to navigate the world. Hyperfocus can feel like intense intimacy. But it isn’t always sustainable.
5 Things You’re Not Imagining in a Neurodiverse Relationship
Here are five things that are very real—and very common—in relationships where one or both partners are neurodivergent (especially when ADHD or dyslexia are involved).
3 Things I Didn’t Know About Loving Someone with ADHD & Dyslexia
ADHD and dyslexia don’t mean someone isn’t trying—they often mean they’re trying twice as hard just to stay afloat. But without awareness, it’s easy to mistake coping mechanisms for carelessness
The Hardest Part About Writing This Book
When people ask me what the hardest part of writing My Dyslexic Husband was, the answer isn’t about the late nights, the rewrites, or even finding the right words. It’s this: trying to tell the truth while protecting the person I love.
Through His Eyes: Trying to See the Love That Was Always There
There’s a song that found its way into my headphones recently — Untitled by Rex Orange County — and it stopped me in my tracks.
It’s raw. It’s tender. It’s messy in the way real love often is.
Morning Moments
Most mornings start with a small, familiar ritual. I’m usually already awake, lying in bed with our little dachshund curled beside me. We both listen for the sound of the latte machine humming in the kitchen, a soft promise that my husband is getting our day started.
The Things He Says
There are days I could strangle him. And there are days I could laugh until my sides hurt. Most days — it’s both, almost at once. It was a sunny afternoon, and we were walking — headed toward the North Shore Writers Festival — when he turned to me and said, completely straight-faced,“I’m not ADHD.”
The One with the Map
Not because I knew exactly where we were going, but because I could see the terrain—emotional terrain, especially—more clearly. I could anticipate the sharp turns, the places we’d likely get stuck, the signals that something was off long before we’d hit the wall.
Why I Write About Both Dyslexia and ADHD
At first, I thought the challenge was ADHD. My husband was officially diagnosed six years into our relationship, after years of me gently urging him to seek an assessment. But over time, I discovered it wasn’t just ADHD — it was also dyslexia, not just the reading or number issues I had vaguely associated with it, but something deeper that shaped our entire communication.
The Unseen Layers: What We Didn’t Know
When (my husband) and I first met, he was upfront about his dyslexia. He even encouraged me to look it up, which I did. I found articles that talked about the common challenges—reversing numbers, letters, and reading comprehension. It seemed straightforward, and I felt prepared.
From Me to We: How a Personal Journal Became a Universal Memoir
When I first started writing, it was just for me. A way to release the frustration and confusion I felt when it seemed like no one, not even my partner, understood what was happening. The journaling started as a lifeline in those moments of feeling alone.
The Advice That Saved Me — and Almost Broke Me
In the thick of confusion, I turned to the internet looking for clarity. I saved quotes, posts, and promises — words from strangers telling me what real love should feel like.
behind the memoir
Behind every story lies another story — the quiet moments, the questions that lingered, and the lessons that kept unfolding long after the pages were written.
Behind the Memoir is where I gather the reflections, memories, small windows into daily life, and unseen layers that shaped the journey of writing My Dyslexic Husband.
It’s a space for the questions I carried, the lessons I’m still learning, the fleeting moments that ground me, and the stories that didn’t fit neatly inside the book but still shaped its heart.
If you’re walking your own journey through love, learning, or letting go — I hope you find something here that reminds you you’re not alone.