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, who happens to be 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 actually 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 could skim through AWS documentation, I had to read each section methodically, often multiple times. I thought everyone did this—they were just better at hiding it.

My spelling is inconsistent at best. Thank goodness for spell-check, because 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 or not focused enough.

Here’s the kicker: 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. Suddenly, my coping mechanisms made sense:

Why do I prefer video tutorials over written documentation? Because I process auditory information more effectively than visual text.

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

Why do I narrate my thoughts when debugging? Because speaking activates different processing pathways that help me think through problems.

Why am I 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, it’s actually an advantage.

Pattern recognition. While I struggle with linear text, I excel at seeing patterns in system architectures, identifying security vulnerabilities across similar configurations, and understanding how different services interconnect. When reviewing infrastructure as code, I can spot inconsistencies and potential issues that others miss because I naturally think in systems and relationships.

I’m thorough by necessity. Because I know I might misread something, I’ve developed habits that make me more careful than my colleagues. I create checklists, document everything, and build verification steps into my processes. What started as accommodation has become 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 use more 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? I script them. This has made me better at automation and infrastructure as code than colleagues who can 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 they’re all dense, linear text that takes me significantly longer to process. I’ve learned to use text-to-speech tools and to 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 to focus on understanding the logic rather than trying to read 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 become strategic about what I focus on and to leverage my network for recommendations rather than trying to read 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 to recognize that different doesn’t mean deficient.

What I Wish I’d Known Earlier

If you’re reading this and recognizing yourself, here’s 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? That’s not 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. Using text-to-speech for documentation, creating visual diagrams for complex systems, or needing 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 can help you work with your brain instead of against it. The diagnosis won’t change your capabilities, but it might help you understand them better.

The Plot Twist

Here’s 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 against my natural learning style, I was actually 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 aren’t despite my dyslexia, they’re because of it.

The tech industry talks a lot about diversity, usually focusing on visible differences. But neurodiversity—different ways of thinking and processing information—might be just as important. Systems are complex, security challenges are multifaceted, and having team members who think differently about problems leads to better solutions.

To My Fellow Neurodivergent Engineers

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

And 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 just 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.