The Hidden Strengths of Dyslexia: Creativity, Tenacity, Vision
Web Exclusive, by Amber M. Brookman, 2025
October is Dyslexia Awareness Month, and for me, that’s more than a line on the calendar. I’ve lived with severe dyslexia my whole life. For years, it felt like a shadow I couldn’t recognize hidden between the blankets of my subconscious. The irony is, I didn’t have a name for it until recently. Retention of the written word was challenging. Spelling by memory needed to be constantly quantified. Sentences were structured with the conclusion often before the beginning of a thought. Needless to say, writing took massive re-editing from the curse of backward thoughts.
What I’ve come to realize and want to share in my memoir, Nobody’s Girl: Mother, Model, and CEO On My Own Terms, is that dyslexia also gave me some of my greatest gifts and strengths: creativity, tenacity, and vision, in addition to a near-photographic memory to the listened word.
Dyslexia is a neurological difference that changes the way the brain processes written and spoken language. It doesn’t mean you’re less intelligent. It means you learn and communicate differently. That difference often creates challenges in classrooms or workplaces that weren’t designed with us in mind. It can also forge qualities people don’t always see: resilience, resourcefulness, and imagination, as well as the need to work within the framework of a community.
I’m not alone in this. Across industries and generations, remarkable women have shown that dyslexia is a catalyst for success, not a barrier. Princess Beatrice, a patron of the Helen Arkell Dyslexia Charity, has spoken openly about her school struggles and how they shaped her determination to advocate for others. Barbara Corcoran, the real estate mogul and “Shark Tank” investor, credits dyslexia with teaching her to think differently and trust her instincts—skills that helped her build a business empire.
In the arts, Keira Knightley has described how her love of acting grew out of her determination to overcome childhood dyslexia, memorizing scripts until the words felt like her own. Jennifer Aniston has said her late diagnosis in her 20s explained years of self-doubt and helped her understand that her challenges weren’t about capability. Salma Hayek has shared how learning English as a dyslexic wasn’t easy, but that she discovered new ways of processing information, eventually thriving on screen in multiple languages. Whoopi Goldberg, too, has spoken about growing up with dyslexia and how she had to carve her own path toward storytelling and performance.
These women remind me that dyslexia doesn’t silence us. It does shape the powerful ways we make ourselves heard.
In my own life, I first found success as a model. Glamorous and exhilarating? Sometimes, yet behind the scenes, I was carrying the private weight of an unidentified culprit constantly rewiring my brain. Early on, traditional academic paths held no interest for me. Instead, I leaned into other abilities: reading people without words, cultivating presence, and adapting quickly in unpredictable environments. Later, I transitioned into the corporate world, working at Allied Chemical, an environment where I had to navigate complex information and prove myself daily despite the challenges of dyslexia. Those years taught me extended hours and effort, and strategic thinking would carry me to my eventual role as a CEO. Leading a company required me to problem-solve creatively, make decisions quickly, trust my instinct, and most importantly, surround myself with incredibly talented people to collaborate with. All these qualities were sharpened by my dyslexia.
When I finally sat down to write Nobody’s Girl, spurred on by my mission to help others see and soar with every ounce of their potential, I faced that old inner culprit again: this effort will require massive strategic thinking to accomplish. Every page I wrote was proof that I could. That’s the paradox of dyslexia. Yes, it makes certain things harder. In forcing us to adapt, however, it gives us tools we might never have developed otherwise. Dyslexia compelled me to build my own playbook: to trust instinct, to problem-solve in unconventional ways, and to keep going when things get tough. Those same skills served me in my career, my relationships, and now in my writing.
What I want people to share this month is that dyslexia is not a story of struggle. It is a story of invention. When I see the successes of Beatrice, Corcoran, Knightley, Aniston, Hayek, Goldberg—and so many others—I see the same thread: people can succeed not despite dyslexia but in its wonderful dynamism. Their creativity is sharper, their vision wider, their tenacity infinite.
This Dyslexia Awareness Month, I want us to expand the narrative. Dyslexia is not a weakness to overcome but a strength to recognize. For me, it’s been the source of resilience, creativity, and vision. And if my journey proves anything, it’s this: Don’t let anyone tell you what you can’t do. Have razor focus on what you can do. Never let obstacles define you. Let the results answer the question of your capabilities.