We were walking through the woods on one of those perfect camping days.
The sun filtered through the trees. The air felt just right. I remember thinking, Why don’t we do this more often? Why don’t we camp every weekend?
There wasn’t anywhere else I would have rather been.
Then my phone vibrated in my pocket.
It was a call I had been expecting — my daughter’s teacher.
My breath caught. I sat down on a rock while my family walked ahead. As gently and kindly as she could, the teacher told me my daughter was struggling academically and might need testing.
My heart sank.
I wasn’t surprised. I had seen the signs.
And if I’m honest, I recognized them.
Because I had lived them.
What I didn’t know yet was that this moment would eventually teach me something profound: sometimes your greatest weakness may also be your greatest strength.
If you’d rather listen, you can tune into the podcast here:
🎧 Your Greatest Weakness May Also Be Your Greatest Strength
▶️ You can also watch the full video below.
When the Diagnosis Becomes Real
Months later, I sat around a table with teachers, administrators, and a diagnostician.
They explained that my daughter had dyslexia, along with other learning differences that were making school much harder than it needed to be.
I wasn’t surprised.
I had struggled in similar ways. Learning to read felt slow. Focusing was difficult. Keeping pace with peers felt exhausting. I carried embarrassment and shame for years.
Even though I had been a special education teacher, I hadn’t specialized in dyslexia. So I started learning. Reading everything I could get my hands on.
And what I found surprised me.
Many of the books didn’t just describe dyslexia as a challenge.
They described dyslexic strengths.
They used words like creativity, innovative thinking, high emotional intelligence, energetic curiosity, strong communication, leadership, big-picture vision.
Some even called them superpowers.
A Different Lens
As I read story after story of successful adults who attributed their creativity and out-of-the-box thinking to their dyslexia, something shifted in me.
Yes, school had been painful for them.
Yes, there had been struggle.
But many of them said they wouldn’t trade it away. Because the very thing that made childhood hard became their strength in adulthood.
That idea stayed with me.
For years, I had been listening to meditation teachers talk about accepting the parts of ourselves we don’t like.
And I agreed in theory.
But privately, I thought:
Am I really supposed to accept my anxiety? My depression? My ADHD?
If I’m honest, I wasn’t trying to accept them.
I was trying to get rid of them.
But my daughter’s diagnosis opened a door.
What if the parts of ourselves that cause pain are also the source of our gifts?
The Sun and the Moon
I even got a tattoo of a sun and a moon on my wrist.
As a reminder.
There are dark sides to things. There is real suffering. I don’t want to minimize that.
But sometimes there is light within the same thing.
The moon is dark — and breathtakingly beautiful.
Dyslexia caused me pain. ADHD caused frustration. Depression has been heavy at times.
And.
My dyslexic thinking fuels creativity and big-picture insight.
My ADHD gives me drive, energy, and the ability to hyperfocus deeply.
My sensitivity — the very thing that has sometimes led to depression — is also the source of my empathy, my passion, my ability to sit with someone’s pain as a therapist.
I wouldn’t choose suffering.
But I also wouldn’t choose to erase who I am.
A Gentle Question for You
Is there something about yourself you have wished you could remove?
Something you’ve labeled as weakness for years?
Maybe it’s being “too sensitive.”
Maybe it’s being strong-willed.
Maybe it’s anxiety.
Maybe it’s intensity.
Is it possible that there is a strength inside it?
Sometimes that strength is obvious.
Sometimes you have to look for it.
You might even ask someone you trust:
“Is there an upside to this part of me that I don’t see?”
Ask people who are safe. People who see the good in you.
And What About Your Child?
Especially the traits that drive you the most crazy.
The strong-willed child.
The child who won’t sit still.
The one who argues.
The one who feels everything deeply.
What if those traits are also their future strengths?
What if the child who questions everything becomes the adult who thinks critically?
What if the child who feels everything deeply becomes the adult who leads with compassion?
What if the child who won’t back down becomes the adult who stands up for others?
Imagine what it would feel like for your child to know:
“My parents see the good in me.”
Even when they mess up.
Even when they struggle.
Even when school is hard.
That kind of acceptance becomes a shield.
Why This Matters in Parenting
When we dislike parts of ourselves, it becomes much harder to turn toward ourselves with compassion.
Without compassion, we avoid.
We minimize.
We push away.
But compassion makes self-awareness tolerable.
It allows us to say:
“Yes, this is hard.”
“And there may also be something valuable here.”
Sometimes your greatest weakness may also be your greatest strength — but we can only see that when we are willing to look gently instead of harshly.
The same is true for our children.
When we can see their strengths in the middle of their struggles, we offer them something powerful: resilience.
We communicate:
“You are more than your challenges.”
“You are not defined by this.”
And maybe — just maybe — the same is true for you.
🎧 If you’d like to listen to this specific episode directly, you can find it here.
The light in me sees the light in you.
Be well.