Beating the Odds
“She’s dyslexic; there’s no doubt about it.” The words still rang in her head, all these years later, as she sat at her computer; mouse curser, hovering over the email from the latest publisher to whom she’d sent her work.
As long as she could remember, she had dreamed of being a writer. Those words, back when she was a child, had seemed to put an end to any hope of that dream coming true, and yet she’d continued to try, working very hard at school, taking any extra help that was offered, at least at first; until life succeeded in distracting her for a while.
However, here she now sat; twenty eight years old, and too afraid to open the email before her. Would it be a rejection? Had her editor done enough? Were her words clear enough, clever enough, good enough?
There was only one way to find out, and yet fear gripped her.
She should have given up, should have walked away from that dream and tried for the other; but, with her disability, animal care was no longer an option. After all, how could someone, who at times, struggled to care for themselves, possibly care for animals?
No, this was her only hope. She had to jump for this dream or simply give up on her dreams, altogether. Years of work and all that time spent fighting her Dyslexia, striving to learn what seemed to come so naturally to everyone else had brought her to this point. She couldn’t walk away now.
Finger, hovering for a moment; she took a deep breath, clicked the left mouse button and closed her eyes as silently she begged for good news. Opening them, she scanned the page, her hands flying to her mouth; tears coursing down her face. She felt like a fool, as she sobbed uncontrollably, forcing herself to read again; to process the words before her to the full.
She’d been accepted, they wanted to publish her book, and her dream had come true.
She’d spent the start of her year, crying over her disability, feeling useless and worthless, as she was forced to take to the four wheels of a mobility scooter in order to get around. Ashamed and humiliated, she had been certain that her life was over. But now, here she sat; her book in her hands, a real book, no longer, just loose sheets of paper with printed words, but a real book with a cover, acknowledgements, and her name big and bold for all to see.
However, as one disability had been revealed to her and accepted by her, she had overcome another; she’d beaten her dyslexia, had achieved what had once seemed so impossible and become a published author.
Her back might never heal, but she had her proof anything is possible; no matter how great the odds may seem. At last, she felt hope, hope for the future, and freedom from the despair that had threatened to devour her.