Shadows, Spotlights, and the Stories We Tell
When I sat down to record this fourth part of my conversation with Olivia—calling in from the East Coast—I had just launched three new podcasts: Chat Sparks and Growls, Think Out, and Shero. The first two were already out in the world; Shero was debuting the very next day. My head was buzzing with ideas, deadlines, and excitement. But today, it was Olivia’s story that mattered.
We started in an unexpected place: shadows.
Olivia remembered a time when she couldn’t sleep because the light on her wall cast moving shapes from the window. For eight and a half years, she slept facing the wall nearest her bed, relying on a nightlight or the closet light. Eventually, a couple of years ago, she realized she didn’t need it anymore.
“It’s funny,” she said, “you always needed it dark, and I always needed light. It just shows the differences.”
I could relate, even if for me it was the opposite—pitch darkness, maybe because of my migraines. But the shared thread was the way early sensory experiences stay etched in memory.
From there, we moved to NVLD awareness. If she could wave a magic wand, what did Olivia wish the world understood about NVLD?
“Absolutely, I’d want more awareness,” she said without hesitation. “But in the right way. I don’t want to be introduced as the NVLD girl. I’m Olivia. I’m a singer-songwriter. I have NVLD, yes, but it’s not my whole identity.”
She referenced how television often gets it wrong. She’d watched a Degrassi episode where a character’s dyscalculia was mentioned only in the last two minutes—overshadowed by unrelated drama. “It has to be portrayed so people see the full picture, not just one symptom or stereotype.”
That brought me to Chris Rock, who had been diagnosed with NVLD later in life. I’d once dreamed of interviewing him, thinking a celebrity face might make people realize it’s a real condition. Olivia understood but pointed out that it’s not a celebrity’s obligation to become a spokesperson—awareness has to happen on their terms.
We laughed about my half-serious theory that someone from his state visiting my podcast website might have been him.
“If you’re listening, hi Chris,” Olivia joked.
When I asked if she ever wished she didn’t have NVLD, Olivia was honest.
“As a teenager, yes. Back then, I was dealing with depression, family issues, and school struggles. But now? I don’t hate it, I don’t love it, I’m just… okay with it. It’s part of me.”
She shared a harrowing story from her junior year—a car accident that left her with a broken thumb, bruises, and back spasms. The accident had been triggered in part by her visual-spatial challenges and anxiety about a car that seemed to be following her. The trauma reinforced old feelings of wishing she could go back and change things. But a friend’s words stuck with her: “Everything that happened made me who I am. And I’m happy now.”
Her therapist’s advice helped too: Looking too much into the past can lead to depression. Looking too much into the future can cause anxiety. Live in the present.
Not all her NVLD stories were heavy. There was the eighth-grade “tight T-shirt” incident—where she misunderstood the principal’s concern, thought he was calling her fat, and somehow got out of detention because of it. Years later, she still laughed about the mix-up.
“That probably started my rebellious streak,” she admitted, grinning.
When we turned to advice for those who suspect they have NVLD, Olivia was direct:
“If you think you might have it, get tested. Don’t sit in uncertainty. And if you’ve just been diagnosed, find your people—friends, mentors, online communities. School will still have challenges, but you’ll figure out your own way to learn.”
She described how she’d once seen NVLD as an invisible wall. Learning about it shattered that wall and turned it into a bridge—a crossing into self-understanding. In college, the challenges shifted, sometimes feeling like a brick wall again, but she’d learned she could build her own ladders over it.
Her closing thought was simple but powerful:
“You don’t have to love NVLD. You don’t have to hate it. But you can live fully with it. Day by day.”
