The Girl With the Curly Perm: A Journey Through “not knowing” to “knowing”.
My 15 year old self…in the period of “not knowing”…
The girl in the picture is 15 years old—me, in all my curly perm glory. That hair was a wonder to behold, with an orbit of its own. So much product kept it perfectly synchronized with every turn of my head.
But beneath that voluminous hair, I was unknowingly navigating a world that didn’t quite fit. What I didn’t know at the time was that I am dyslexic, dyspraxic (diagnosed formally as an adult), and likely AuDHD.
What I Knew
At 15, I was figuring things out the best I could. Here’s what I knew:
I loved to write and had big ideas but struggled to express them the way I wanted.
I was no stranger to failure. Being placed in a remedial class in primary school for struggling to spell and recall left me feeling humiliated. The shame deepened when a teacher hit me over the head with a textbook in front of the class for getting a question wrong.
I felt the paradox of being labeled “gifted” by my science teacher, while simultaneously being on report for skipping English lessons and being “disruptive” in class. Verbal processing was my default—I had to talk through my thoughts—but it wasn’t welcomed in classrooms where silence was expected.
I knew the inside of the local shopping centre better than the inside of some classrooms. I found refuge in friendships with others who didn’t fit the mould of a “good” pupil either.
What I Didn’t Know
What I couldn’t see at 15 was the incredible journey that lay ahead of me:
I didn’t know I would eventually find my place in education—not just as a student, but as a teacher with an 11-year career as a sociology lecturer.
I didn’t know I would earn an MA in Education, followed by a PhD in Philosophy.
I didn’t know I would become a published writer.
I didn’t know I would be diagnosed with dyslexia at 25 and dyspraxia at 39, finally “knowing” why I think differently to others.
I didn’t know the neurodiversity movement would help me feel understood and give me the confidence to embrace my identity.
I didn’t know I’d become a neurodiversity advocate, supporting neurodivergent teachers and pushing for change in the education sector.
I certainly didn’t know I’d start my own business, dedicated to encouraging educational institutions to recognise, affirm, and celebrate neurodivergent educators.
Why I’m Sharing This
This reflection isn’t just a personal story; it’s a call to action. If you are an educational employer, know this: you cannot claim to be a neuro-inclusive organisation unless you advocate for and support your neurodivergent teaching workforce.
Too often, neurodivergent individuals succeed in education despite the system, not because of it. Your institution likely employs neurodivergent teachers, some of whom are aware of their neurodivergence and some who are not.
The beauty of creating a truly neuro-inclusive environment—guided by universal design principles—is that everyone benefits. Your institution becomes stronger, more adaptive, and more welcoming. Most importantly, you create a space of psychological safety for neurodivergent educators, many of whom carry deep scars from their own experiences in education.
It’s time to do better—not just for your students, but for the teachers shaping their future.
By sharing this story, I hope to inspire reflection, change, and the kind of inclusion that truly transforms lives. Let’s make education a place where everyone belongs.
Not sure where to start? Then please do reach out to me via the Contact form, or email me direct at: a.odwyer@neurodivergentinsider.co.uk
Be an inclusive champion!
