Are You Dyslexic? A Security Engineer's Late Discovery

“You might want to get tested for dyslexia.”

The words hung in the air during what should have been a casual conversation about learning new programming languages. I’d just finished explaining how I prefer video tutorials over documentation, how I re-read the same paragraph multiple times, and how I sometimes transpose numbers when writing IP addresses. My friend, a special education teacher, looked at me with that knowing expression.

“I’m not dyslexic,” I protested. “I have a computer science degree. I write technical blogs. I read all the time.”

Three weeks later, sitting in a specialist’s office with test results in front of me, I realized how little I understood about what dyslexia is.

The Signs I Missed (Or Ignored)

Looking back, the signs were everywhere. I just attributed them to being “different” or “not naturally academic”:

I’ve always been a slow reader. While colleagues skimmed through AWS documentation, I had to read each section methodically, often multiple times. I thought everyone did this and just hid it better.

My spelling is inconsistent at best. Thank goodness for spell-check: I can spell “infrastructure” correctly one day and completely butcher it the next. I chalked this up to typing too fast or not paying attention.

Numbers are my nemesis. I transpose digits constantly: IP addresses, port numbers, AWS account IDs. I double and triple-check everything because I know I’m likely to flip something. I assumed this was just carelessness.

Reading code out loud? Forget it. During code reviews, I stumble over variable names and skip words. I thought I was just nervous.

I genuinely believed everyone experienced these challenges and just powered through them better than I did.

The Lightbulb Moment

The diagnosis didn’t change who I am, but it reframed everything I thought I knew about my learning style. My coping mechanisms suddenly made sense:

I prefer video tutorials over written documentation because I process auditory information better than visual text.

I create detailed diagrams and flowcharts for everything because visual-spatial representation helps me understand complex systems better than linear text.

I narrate my thoughts when debugging because speaking activates different processing pathways that help me think through problems.

I’m drawn to infrastructure and systems architecture because I think in patterns and relationships, not sequential steps.

These weren’t workarounds for being “bad at reading.” They were accommodations my brain had naturally developed.

How Dyslexia Shapes My Tech Career

Contrary to what I expected, dyslexia isn’t a barrier in tech. It’s a different operating system, and sometimes an advantage.

Pattern recognition. While I struggle with linear text, I excel at seeing patterns in system architectures, spotting security vulnerabilities across similar configurations, and understanding how services interconnect. Reviewing infrastructure as code, I catch inconsistencies others miss because I think in systems and relationships.

I’m thorough by necessity. Because I know I might misread something, I’ve built habits that make me more careful than my colleagues: checklists, documentation for everything, verification steps in every process. What started as accommodation became professional rigor.

I communicate differently, and it helps. I can’t rely on detailed written explanations, so I’ve become skilled at visual communication. My security architecture diagrams are clear and comprehensive because I need them to understand the systems myself. My presentations lean on visuals and analogies because that’s how I process information.

I automate more aggressively. Repetitive tasks where I might transpose numbers or misread configuration files get scripted. That’s made me better at automation and infrastructure as code than colleagues who rely on manual processes.

The Learning Challenges Are Real

But let’s be honest, it’s not all advantages. Learning in tech can be genuinely challenging with dyslexia:

Documentation is painful. AWS documentation, RFC specifications, security whitepapers: all dense, linear text that takes me significantly longer to process. I’ve learned to use text-to-speech tools and summarize key points in my own visual notes.

Code reviews require extra time. I need to read code more slowly and carefully. I’ve learned to prepare beforehand and focus on the logic rather than reading everything word-for-word in the meeting.

Keeping up with rapid changes is harder. The tech industry moves fast, and there’s always new documentation to read, new tools to learn. I’ve had to get strategic about what I focus on and lean on my network for recommendations instead of reading everything myself.

Impostor syndrome hits different. When you take longer to read the same material as your colleagues, it’s easy to feel like you don’t belong. I’ve had to learn that different doesn’t mean deficient.

What I Wish I’d Known Earlier

If you’re recognizing yourself here, this is what I wish someone had told me years ago:

Your coping mechanisms are strengths, not weaknesses. That visual thinking that helps you understand system architecture isn’t a workaround. It’s a skill. The detailed documentation you create because you need it to remember? Your team benefits from that too.

Accommodation isn’t cheating. Text-to-speech for documentation, visual diagrams for complex systems, extra time to process information: these are tools, not crutches. You wouldn’t feel guilty about using a debugger to find issues in code.

You belong in tech. The industry needs different kinds of thinkers. Some of the best security engineers I know are dyslexic. They see patterns and think systematically in ways that complement traditional linear thinking.

Get tested if you suspect it. Understanding your learning differences helps you work with your brain instead of against it. The diagnosis won’t change your capabilities, but it might help you understand them.

The Plot Twist

What surprised me most about the diagnosis: it didn’t make me feel limited. It made me feel powerful.

All those years I thought I was fighting my natural learning style, I was developing a unique approach to problem-solving. The extra time I spent understanding systems deeply, the visual thinking that helps me architect security solutions, the methodical approach I take to complex problems: these exist because of my dyslexia, not despite it.

The tech industry talks a lot about diversity, usually focusing on visible differences. Neurodiversity, different ways of thinking and processing information, might matter just as much. Systems are complex and security challenges are multifaceted. Teams that think differently about problems find better solutions.

To My Fellow Neurodivergent Engineers

If you’ve made it this far thinking “this sounds familiar,” consider getting evaluated. Not because there’s something wrong with you, but because understanding how your brain works helps you use your strengths more effectively.

To my neurotypical colleagues: when someone asks for information in a different format, takes longer to process documentation, or explains things with lots of diagrams, remember that different approaches often lead to better outcomes for everyone.

We’re not broken computers that need fixing. We’re running different operating systems, and sometimes that’s exactly what the problem requires.

Note: This is my personal experience with dyslexia in tech. Everyone’s experience is different, and if you suspect you might be dyslexic, consider speaking with a qualified professional.