Mistakes That Teach – Navigating Work, Life, and Learning with NLD

Have you ever made what you considered a careless mistake, or so many mistakes at work that you lost count, or even risked losing your job? I have. And I can tell you, it’s not easy to live with that pattern when it feels like your brain keeps tripping over itself.

I’ve made countless mistakes—both big and small—throughout my life and career. Many of these mistakes are rooted in my experience living with a learning disability, specifically Nonverbal Learning Disability (NLD). But I’ve also learned that not all mistakes are careless. Some come from how your brain processes information, especially when you're neurodivergent.

Let me give you a few examples.

At work, one recurring challenge I face is proofreading. I help my mom with newsletters, and I’ve struggled to catch typos and structural issues. This has been an ongoing process—over a year of consistent effort—and yes, that might seem like a long time to some. But learning new habits takes time, especially when your brain isn’t wired for the type of attention those habits require.

Everyone’s brain works differently. When you’re neurodiverse, that difference becomes more pronounced—and often misunderstood. In a recent therapy session, I discussed my proofreading struggles. My therapist suggested recording myself reading the newsletters out loud so I could listen back and catch things I might have missed visually. I haven’t tried the recording part yet, but I do read aloud, slowly, and multiple times now. That alone has helped me catch more errors.

Sometimes I joke on the podcast and say things like, “Mom, if you’re listening—you can tell me it’s not working.” She listens to the show, and I try to stay honest.

Proofreading isn’t my only challenge. I also handle some of our social media content. This includes choosing images to match inspirational quotes. In the past, I struggled with selecting images that visually aligned with the emotional tone of the quote. I picked ones that were too serious, flirtatious, or overly sad. It used to take me days to find the right image. Now it usually takes about an hour—progress I’m proud of.

One mistake I made recently involved the placement of a phrase—“Life is good”—on an image. It kept shifting out of position every time I adjusted the design. I had to go back to earlier versions to understand what went wrong. I thought it would take an entire day to fix, but it only took a couple of hours. Still, those small visual-spatial errors take up mental energy and time—and they're often invisible to others.

I’m fortunate to work for my parents, especially my mom, who’s supportive and patient. She’s told me she won’t fire me because she wants me to learn how to produce good quality work—so that when I move on to another employer, I’m prepared. I’m deeply grateful for that. Not everyone gets the opportunity to make mistakes, learn from them, and improve—all in a safe and forgiving work environment.

Not all my mistakes are at work. In life, I’ve made my fair share—many of which I’ve lost count of. I’ve dated someone I shouldn’t have, gotten into car accidents, and said the wrong thing at the wrong time more than once. But I’ve learned from all of it. If you want a musical reference that really captures the feeling, listen to "I Learn and I Forget" by Daniel Nahmod. It feels like the anthem for people like me who live with NLD and keep learning, even when they stumble.

Mistakes Are Universal

Now, I want to zoom out for a moment. Mistakes aren’t unique to neurodiverse people. Neurotypicals make them too—and sometimes those mistakes happen when interacting with people like me. I read an article by Peter Flom titled Five Mistakes People Make When Interacting with Elders (and the Neurodiverse), and here’s a quote I found especially relevant:

“One mistake you can make is assuming that neurodiverse people are stupid. Two, assuming we’re deaf. Three, assuming we’re not listening. Four, assuming we’re not interested in you. Five, assuming we’re like other spectrum people you know.”

I want to pause on that. We're not stupid. In fact, some of us excel in areas like memorization, verbal reasoning, long-term memory, or specific academic subjects. We’re not deaf—we hear you. It just may take us longer to process what you’ve said. Sometimes, we’re even better listeners because we remember what was said long after others forget. We’re often more sensitive too. That’s not a flaw—it’s a part of who we are.

And no, we’re not all alike. Just like autism has a spectrum, NLD varies widely from person to person. One person might struggle more with math, another with driving, another with sports or social interaction. My NLD is mild, but it still affects my day-to-day life—and it’s very real.

Living in the Loop of Mistakes

There’s another article I came across on IDOnline.org titled Adults with Learning Disability or ADHD Making “Stupid” Mistakes. One contributor wrote:

“I do things I have already learned how to do—wrong. I either do the right thing the wrong way, or the wrong thing the right way, or I forget half of whatever it was I was supposed to do. Once I became aware of this problem, I started pausing and asking myself whether what I was doing was really correct. But at the time, the answer always seems to be yes. Then a few hours or days later, I realize my mistake… It has shattered my self-esteem, caused anxiety, and put my job at risk.”

Reading that felt like reading my own diary. I often make the same mistake more than once. It can feel hopeless, like I’m stuck in a loop without a clear way out. But I keep trying. I keep learning.

Learning Through the Stumbles

Despite all the missteps—at work, in life, and everywhere in between—I’ve learned something important: mistakes are not the end of the world. They’re part of being human. For those of us with learning differences, we may make more mistakes. But that doesn’t mean we’re broken or incapable. It means we have to work harder, longer, and more thoughtfully. And in the process, we often become more empathetic, more self-aware, and yes, stronger.

I now believe that making mistakes doesn’t make you less intelligent. If anything, it builds your intelligence in ways people often overlook. You learn. You reflect. You adapt. And most importantly, you keep going.

So I want to leave you with this question:
How have the mistakes you’ve made—whether in life or at work—shaped the person you are today?

You don’t need to answer it out loud. Just sit with it. Think about it. If you feel like sharing, go ahead. But even if you don’t, let it be a reminder that your journey—with all its bumps and detours—matters. And that you're learning, even when it feels like you're forgetting.