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paulund

6 min read

#career#neurodiversity#personal

Why Dyslexia Made Me a Better Software Engineer

Introduction

I didn't tell anyone at work I was dyslexic for most of my career. It felt like a liability to disclose, something that might make people doubt my ability to read technical documentation or spot errors in code. So I didn't mention it. I developed workarounds. I got good at compensating.

It was only much later that I started to see my dyslexia not as something to manage around, but as something that had actively shaped how I approach engineering, in ways that turned out to be advantages.

This isn't a post about overcoming adversity. It's about something more specific: how a brain that processes text differently can develop different strengths, and why some of those strengths map unusually well to software engineering.

How I read code

Dyslexia doesn't mean I can't read. It means I read differently. Where a neurotypical reader processes text sequentially and builds up meaning from individual words, I tend to perceive patterns and shapes first. The overall structure before the specific content.

When I look at a function, I see the shape of it before the detail -- how long it is, where the conditions are, what the return patterns look like. This is slow and unreliable for reading prose. For code, it's often exactly the right way to start.

I've watched engineers read code by starting at line one and moving line by line. I've never been able to do that. I scan for structure, identify the interesting parts, then zoom in. Turns out that's a pretty effective way to navigate an unfamiliar codebase.

Debugging by feel

The thing about dyslexia is that you develop strong pattern recognition because you need it. When reading is slower and more effortful, you compensate by getting better at inference -- at filling in gaps from context, at knowing when something is slightly off even if you can't immediately say why.

This translates directly to debugging. I've caught bugs by noticing that something looked wrong before I could explain why. The indentation was slightly off. The variable name didn't match the pattern used everywhere else. The conditional felt backwards.

Most of the time, when something feels wrong, it is wrong. This isn't magic. It's pattern matching from years of reading code in a way that attends closely to structure and shape.

The engineers I know who are best at debugging tend to combine this with the ability to form and test hypotheses fast. Dyslexia gave me the first part; the second came from practice.

Thinking in systems

Reading text linearly (absorbing it in sequence and building up a picture) is a different mental process from holding multiple pieces in relation to each other and working out how they fit.

I've always done the second more easily. I find it more natural to think about how components interact, where state flows through a system, which parts of the code own which responsibilities. The big picture comes more easily than the sequential narrative.

This probably sounds like a personality claim more than a dyslexia claim, and maybe it is. But a brain that doesn't default to linear sequential processing develops other ways to make sense of things. Systems thinking was mine.

What I wish I'd known earlier

The career cost of hiding it was real. I spent years avoiding roles that required writing-heavy work, being slower than I should have been at code review because I hadn't built good tools for myself, and not asking for accommodations I could have asked for.

I also spent time being frustrated with code review feedback about small things (a variable name, a comment phrasing) when I could see the system-level problem the reviewer was missing. Both things were real. The detail mattered and the bigger picture mattered. I wasn't wrong that some reviewers were too focused on surface detail. But I also needed to get better at the detail work.

Text-to-speech for documentation changed how I learn. Reading long technical docs is slow and error-prone for me. Listening to them while following along is much faster, and I actually remember what I heard. I had access to this the whole time and didn't use it for years. Stubbornness, mostly. macOS has it built in. There are browser extensions (Read Aloud is the one I use) that work on any page. NotebookLM will turn a document into a podcast-style audio summary. These exist, they're free, and they work.

I also started writing toy implementations before reading documentation properly. Building something small and broken first gives me a mental model to attach the real documentation to. Understanding deepens when I have context. It's the difference between reading about an API and knowing how to use it.

AI coding assistants have also been more useful to me than to most developers I've talked to. Not for the systems-level thinking. I had that. For the detail work: spelling a variable name consistently, remembering the exact parameter order of a function, autocompleting the repetitive boilerplate that requires close attention to get right. Copilot handles the parts of coding that cause friction for dyslexic developers while leaving the interesting parts alone.

The naming discipline came naturally. Poor naming is painful for everyone, but dyslexia makes it worse for me. Variables and functions with clear, consistent names are easier to read when your brain doesn't process text in order. It pushed me to be more careful about naming than many engineers I've worked with, and that discipline makes code easier for everyone else too.

Conclusion

Disability rarely feels like an advantage from inside. It feels like work. The workarounds you develop from necessity become skills only in retrospect.

I'm a better debugger than most engineers I know. I think about systems as interconnected parts instead of as sequences of steps. I notice structural patterns quickly. Some of this is experience. Some of it is probably just personality. But some of it came directly from having a brain that needed to develop those skills because the obvious path wasn't available.

If you're dyslexic and working in software: the workarounds you've built are real skills. The accommodations exist and are worth using: text-to-speech, dyslexia-friendly fonts like OpenDyslexic, AI coding assistants for the detail work, quieter workspaces, extended time for written tasks. You can ask for all of these. And if you find yourself thinking holistically about systems instead of moving through code line by line, that's valuable right now.

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