Overcoming Fear Helped Me Find The Answers I Was Longing For

Why am I Struggling?

What’s wrong with me? Why was school a hard slog? For years, I asked myself these questions but failed to receive an answer. So, I concluded: learning wasn’t for me and probably never would be.

So, one day when my sister said,

‘Nat, why don’t you go to college?’

My initial response was, NO! The thought of revealing my insecurities to the entire class was intimidating; however, the thought of remaining in this situation was even worse. So, that same year, I applied for an English Functional Skills course but was enrolled on a Creative Writing one instead, which, I must say, wasn’t by choice.

After plucking up the courage to finally go to college in 2009, my 6 months of studying ended abruptly: I was pregnant. I still hadn’t received any answers to my questions, and I wasn’t going to anytime soon.

How I found my purpose

Two and a half years had passed since I last stepped foot in college. I never thought I would say it, but I missed learning. I missed the faith that my teacher had in me. I even missed going to the library.

So one day, I decided to stroll to my local library: I hadn’t read a book in ages. Upon my arrival, I was instantly drawn to a particular section. However, I didn’t choose the genre I was used to. It was a romance novel that surprisingly caught my eye.

Sceptically, I began reading chapter one then chapter two. By chapter three, I was hooked. Rubbing my eyes and yawning repeatedly from the fatigue that overtook my body, I kept hearing a voice saying, ‘read on’. The voice continued speaking, you can write a book. You can do this. At this point in my life, I had only penned one short story; my grammar, punctuation and spelling were terrible, but I thought – all things are possible to them that believe.

Going back to college  

Time had approached for me to enrol in college for the second time. This time was different. I had a daughter to think about, and I knew what my purpose was. Yes, I know that I have only written one story, and my writing and reading skills had not improved much after my brief encounter with education, but I knew this was my calling, and nothing was going to stop me.

It was September 2012, the sun was shimmering. Instead of enjoying the beautiful weather, something that is uncommon in the UK, my stomach was churning, my heart racing and my mind wondering…Am I doing the right thing?

As I walked through the doors of the college and joined the queue, I vividly remembered one of my creative writing classes.

‘Today we’ll be reading a section from Of Mice and Men,’ my teacher said whilst placing the book on the table.

‘This is not what I signed up for,’ I thought in my head, whilst biting my lip as I discreetly wiped my clammy hands up and down my legs. Back in school, if I knew we were reading out in class, I would run for the hills. I couldn’t today…

So, I began counting the number of people reading before me. One…two…three…four. Okay. I’m fifth. Watching and listening attentively, I began to work out how many paragraphs were allocated to each student. By the fourth person, I had zoned out. I began swiftly scanning the pages searching for words that I couldn’t pronounce – phew – it was all clear.

With her black-rimmed glasses perched on the end of her nose, my teacher nodded at me indicating that it was my turn.

Panting heavily. The words raced out of my mouth at one hundred words per minute.

‘Slow down,’ I remember hearing.

Was I ready to go through that again?

As I walked to the front desk, the receptionist asked, ‘have you got your letter proving that you have lived in the UK for more than 3 years?’

‘Pardon?’ I understood what she said but wasn’t aware that I needed it. ‘No,’ I said

‘You can’t join the course if you don’t.’

I breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe, this wasn’t my time…However, I knew it was. So, I responded, ‘will my English Certificate help you?’

Ten minutes later I was completing my assessment for another creative writing course.

Facing my fears

A few weeks later, it was apparent that I would have to put my entire trust in God: Critical reading had begun. Something that I loathed. By the time I had read the story, the majority of the information had gone. Forgotten. Just like that. ‘Why did this always happen?’

During the lessons, I would attentively listen in awe as some of the other students would eloquently capture the nuance in the story. Discussing the imagery so vividly. Using adjectives to describe the character’s mood and highlighting how the length of the sentence created a faster or slower pace. Whilst I would be fixated at the time hoping that the class would be over so that I could make a quick dash.

Struggling but still achieving

Although I struggled with reading and was slower at understanding certain texts, I had a passion for learning, and it showed through my writing. Throughout my three years of studying, on different courses, my writing skills had improved immensely. I became an A grade student, was awarded an adult learners award and a teacher suggested I study journalism. However, it wasn’t easy. What took me days to complete, would take my friends hours.

So, I had done remarkably well at college. I had received an award and been told that I had the skills to become a writer, but why was I still struggling? Yes, I was studious. Yes, I was diligent. Yes, my writing had improved. So, why did I have to read a piece of text numerous times before I understood it? Why couldn’t I improve my spelling? Why was my memory still failing me? These questions kept on popping up in my head. I was pleased with my progress but still knew there was something wrong.

So, with all that I achieved at college, my sister encouraged me to go to university, and this was where I finally found the answer.

Finding the answer to my questions

University wasn’t the same as college: The workload was immense and the reading intense. One day whilst skimming through my timetable and deadline dates. I closed my eyes and rubbed my head. An overwhelming sensation engulfed my entire body. How am I going to cope? I had 12 assessments, an exam, presentations, and a ton of reading. Sitting through certain lectures were tough. Discussing text, after reading it once, was tough. Reading academic books were tough. I needed answers more than ever.

Four weeks into my time at university, I took a screening for specific learning difficulties (SpLDs). I had spoken to my friend about my issues, and she suggested that I take the test. It turned out that there was a strong possibility that I was dyslexic, which allowed me to have extra time handing in my assessments until I was officially tested.

It was January 2016, the day of my test.  I can’t remember how long it lasted. All I can recall is the Educational Psychologist telling me that I was dyslexic and the beaming smile that was plastered across my face. It was official! I wasn’t unintelligent as I previously thought. My brain just worked differently. I learnt differently than others.

I ended up getting resources at university to assist me with my studies. I left there with a Diploma in Education and Social Policy, at a distinction level, and had lecturers praising my writing skills.

In 2009, I reluctantly stepped outside of my comfort zone and was put on a creative writing course which, I believe, stirred up the gift inside of me. Overcoming fear not only helped me identify my purpose, but also find the reason why I struggled throughout my life.

What is preventing you from moving forward in your life?

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