Embracing NLD — Olivia’s Journey of Acceptance and Support

This chapter features the third part of my interview with Olivia, a woman living with Nonverbal Learning Disability (NLD). Her story is one of acceptance, resilience, and finding strength through connection and understanding. I hope you enjoy her candid reflections as much as I did.

“I define myself, not my learning disability.”

Olivia’s journey with NLD began in elementary school. She recalls a moment that surprised her — how her classmates already knew about her diagnosis, even when she thought it was a secret.

“I was talking with some friends, and I said, ‘How do you guys know about this?’ They told me, ‘Your mom told our moms.’ I moved in third grade, and around fourth grade is when I got diagnosed. So after that, their moms found out and told their kids. I was shocked because these friends had known for years, yet they never treated me differently.”

This early acceptance lifted a heavy burden for Olivia. For years, she worried about standing out or being labeled. But her friends just saw her as Olivia — not her disability.

“It was like all the weight lifted off my shoulders. I fully accepted what I had. Sure, some symptoms make me laugh now, and some that can be frustrating, especially with relatives who don’t always understand.”

She explained how sarcasm or defensiveness can be misinterpreted, sometimes causing friction. But Olivia’s perspective at 30 years old is grounded in compassion — for herself and others.

“I don’t say I love my NLD, but I love what it has made me. It’s half of who I am. I came to a mantra back in high school: My learning disability does not define me. I define myself.”

This powerful mindset helped Olivia realize that although NLD shapes part of her life, it does not limit her identity or potential. She has friends with ADHD and other challenges — and they don’t define those friends either.

Now, Olivia is embracing opportunities to share her story, including an upcoming speaking engagement at a school specializing in learning disabilities. She wants others to know they are not alone.

The Double-Edged Sword of NLD

As we talked further, I shared my own experiences living with NLD and chronic migraines — how the condition can sometimes feel like a blessing and sometimes a curse.

“It’s a double-edged sword. There are good things, like strong long-term memory, which you also have. But there are also challenges, like knowing when to separate yourself from the disability and when it’s just part of you.”

Olivia nodded, describing her moments of clumsiness — like falling down stairs — and how she learned to laugh at herself. She also spoke about how family support has been key to her journey.

“My parents have always listened to me. They noticed my differences early on because I’m the youngest of three, and they never judged. I could tell them how I felt, and that made all the difference.”

Finding Your Terms

Olivia shared how she manages disclosing her NLD to others on her terms.

“Sometimes I tell people right away, sometimes after weeks or months. It depends on the situation. I hate awkwardness, so I prefer to control when and how I share my story.”

This autonomy helped her build confidence and fostered genuine connections. She also described how empathy from her friends and family helps them understand when her tone might be snappy due to migraines or frustration — not anger directed at them.

The Pain of Misunderstanding

Not everyone in Olivia’s extended family understands NLD. She recalled a heartbreaking story she heard from another young woman whose father dismissed her diagnosis as an excuse for being “stupid.”

“That’s not true. Having NLD doesn’t mean you’re stupid. Sometimes, people with NLD are smarter in different ways. We often work harder, have better memory, and are more patient.”

We talked about the importance of awareness and understanding to break down these harmful misconceptions.

Memories from the Past

Our conversation drifted to memories — Olivia’s earliest being a vivid recollection of a rocking horse on an oval rug in the house she was born in. She believes she was a toddler at the time.

I shared my own earliest memory: waking up in my crib to a spider crawling on my bare leg, scurrying to my parents’ room for comfort. Moments like these, small as they seem, are threads in the fabric of our identities.

Gratitude and Growth

Olivia’s story is ultimately one of gratitude — for the support of her family and friends, for the lessons learned through struggle, and for the chance to redefine herself beyond her diagnosis.

“It’s just one part of me, not everything. And it doesn’t define me.”

Her journey reminds us that acceptance is not just about recognizing a diagnosis but about embracing all the complexities that make us who we are.