Aina Blanco, a teacher with dyslexia: "At school they told me: 'You won't make it to the university entrance exams'"

PalmSome people reach adulthood without knowing why they've always felt different. Suddenly, a diagnosis of a neurodevelopmental disorder, such as autism or dyslexia, gives a name to decades of confusion, silent coping strategies, and efforts to fit into a world that hasn't understood them. "Those diagnosed as adults, of which there are quite a few now, are often diagnosed because as children they adapted to the life they had, at a time when these disorders weren't discussed as much," explains neuropsychologist Ana Mantecón. Many have learned to "cover up their behavior and have assimilated things they see in others, thinking they should do the same." When the diagnosis arrives, it can also cause a great deal of pain: "The pain of remembering what was said about them, how they were judged as children. They have to accept who they are and that no one has ever truly seen them," she summarizes. The diagnosis for women, she says, is especially complex and often goes unnoticed. "The presentation of symptoms in wrists is different. There are physiological differences: if we only consider how symptoms manifest in children, they don't fit the pattern," Mantecón points out. Next, we learn the story of Aina Blanco, a woman who, as an adult, received a diagnosis that gave meaning to her life.

She was born in Setmesina and says that circumstance has always marked her. "All my life I've been lagging behind everyone. I've always been just barely getting by," she explains. From a young age, she sensed that something wasn't quite right. "I noticed problems. I also have dyscalculia; I had trouble understanding texts, I had to make more of an effort," she recalls.

However, no one at school suspected anything. "The teachers didn't notice, because of course, there were no reports or standardized tests, and I just drifted along." Nor were they sure at home: "When I was older and told my father I was dyslexic, he said I didn't have any problems."

For years she carried that feeling of 'not making it'. "At school they treated me like just another student," she says. And she still remembers a scene from high school that marked her. "I loved Art History and History, and it happened that a teacher, after an exam, told the girl behind me that she would get through it, and I asked him, 'And where will I get to?' and he said, 'You won't even make it to the university entrance exams.' Now it turns out I have three degrees," she proudly points out. However, the phrase stayed with her for a long time. "I saw that there were things I didn't understand. I did things, but without knowing why. I saw people who were very good at math, and I didn't understand it. I also didn't know how to extract the meaning from texts. I kept asking myself what was wrong with me," she recalls.

Self-knowledge and reconciliation

Over the years, while working as a teacher, she decided to put a name to it. "I took a standardized test because I'd been noticing it for years, because, as a Special Education Teacher, I know how dyslexia works," she explains. The diagnosis helped her both to request an adjustment to her teaching exams—an extra half hour—and to better understand herself. "It also gives you personal respite: you understand what your life has been like, the obstacles you've faced," she says. Today, after a long journey, Blanco can look back without the same burden. "I judge myself less, and I also have more tools because I know what it is, because I see it in children too." What was once frustration is now understanding. "I feel reconciled, at peace," she affirms.

The diagnosis gave her answers, but also perspective on her role as a teacher. "As a teacher, I realize that children carry the label they're given with them. Now I have a formal assessment, but before, it was like being a doll that wasn't fully understood, just passing grades by doing what I could. Before, you could be in 9th grade and, throughout your entire schooling, you'd never be categorized as a student with special educational needs," she explains.

All her personal experience has made her a different kind of teacher. "I identify many more children with needs. Special education teachers already have a pretty good eye, but of course, I can have much more empathy and I put myself much more in the child's shoes and understand the learning difficulties they have," she explains.

Social pressure

Despite her three university degrees—Special Education Teaching, Social and Cultural Anthropology, and Primary Education (with a specialization in Language Arts)—she has still had to endure judgment. "Socially, I'm held to a higher standard. 'How can you have three degrees and make so many mistakes?'" She herself acknowledges that there are moments of discouragement. "I told my therapist that I felt useless, being a teacher and making these mistakes. But teachers don't just teach grammar and spelling. In primary and early childhood education, we explain strategies and procedures; my role isn't just to transmit learning, but to facilitate it," she asserts.

The late diagnosis also highlighted the importance of her environment. "When they gave me tests, the educational psychologist, after gathering information, asked me about my family situation and told me that if I hadn't had family support with tutoring, I would surely have been a textbook case of academic failure. I got through it thanks to family support. If I had been born into a different environment, I wouldn't be where we are now," she acknowledges.

Now that she can look back on it with some distance, she also sees how demanding and unempathetic society can be. "Everyone around me told me they already knew. Sometimes I want to say one word and I say another. They weren't surprised. Then you encounter people who are always correcting you: family members, ex-partners who try to belittle you. 'You're a teacher, you can't make these kinds of mistakes.' Some people are very biased." Calmly, Blanco says that the important thing is having come to terms with it and having transformed her experience into a tool for others. "Now I understand what my life has been like and the obstacles I've faced," she repeats. And, above all, she knows that getting where she is has taken a lot of effort and courage.