Finding Our Voices – An Interview with Eileen

It was a Saturday when I hit “record.” Normally, I release my podcast episodes on Fridays, but life doesn’t always follow a neat schedule. I’d been dealing with some personal challenges, and I permitted myself to shift things around. That’s something I’m learning to do more often—honor my energy, honor my limits.

I warned my listeners I might need to take a short break. I’ve been working hard on writing scripts, but sometimes the weight of everything catches up with me. Still, I didn’t want to let this conversation wait. Today’s episode is an interview with someone whose story deserves to be heard.

Her name is Eileen, one of the NVLD Project’s Social Ambassadors. She’s from Connecticut, thirty-five years old, and a proud graduate of Curry College and Dean College. She’s a writer, an advocate, and someone who believes deeply in helping others discover that, yes, goals and dreams are possible—even if the path is harder.

On her ambassador bio, Eileen wrote: “Yes, it will be harder, but you will be a stronger person and gain incredible role models like I have. I am so proud of my college degree and running experience, and I love helping others have these experiences too.”

That spirit of determination is why she became involved with the NVLD Project, and why I was so grateful to sit down with her for this conversation. Our talk was long and heartfelt, so I’ve chosen to share it in three parts.

Before we begin, I want to share a piece of important news from the NVLD Project. Recently, I learned that Yeshiva University in New York has opened the first specialty clinic in the country focused on nonverbal learning disability. This clinic was made possible through the generosity of Dr. Laura Lemle, the project’s lead donor. For me, this felt monumental. It’s a ripple of change that I hope will expand—more clinics across the U.S., and eventually, worldwide. For so long, NLD has been overlooked. But moments like this remind me: progress is possible.

With that, let me take you into my conversation with Eileen.

Introductions

Jen: Good morning, good afternoon—wherever you are. I’m here today with Eileen, who’s going to start by telling us a little about herself and her experience with NLD.

Eileen: My name is Eileen. Like most people with NLD, my life has had its ups and downs. The hardest thing about NLD, honestly, is the confusion that still surrounds it—even years later. I graduated from high school back in 2004, and yet so many people still don’t understand what NLD is.

One of my most difficult experiences was being an inclusion athlete. I was lucky to have incredible coaches—Penny Shell, Jim Adams, and Diane Janelle—who believed in me. They insisted there would always be an event for me to run because I showed up and worked hard. Their philosophy was, “So what if we leave the meeting five minutes later? She deserves the chance.”

But not every official or coach felt that way. Some didn’t understand why inclusion mattered. That’s a reality many of us with NLD face—in sports, in classrooms, at work. Misunderstandings happen. People assume we’re not capable, or they don’t adjust enough for us to succeed.

I was fortunate, though. My mom was a special education teacher and part of the original inclusion movement. She stayed current on research and knew NLD was real. She also acted as my advocate when others missed things. That made all the difference.

On Advocacy and Becoming an Ambassador

Jen: That makes so much sense. And thank you for sharing that. I’m curious—what inspired you to become an ambassador for the NVLD Project?

Eileen: I became an ambassador because the NVLD Project saw something in my writing. They told me I had a niche for it, and they encouraged me to share my experiences.

For me, inclusion in sports is a passion. Research shows that only one to three percent of kids with disabilities—like NLD or autism—are full inclusion athletes. That means they’re not just present, but truly part of the team.

Inclusion in sports like track, cross-country, and swimming shows that individual effort matters just as much as team performance. For me, it was never about winning medals. It was about belonging, about being valued. That’s why I want to speak up—so others can have that same chance.

School, Diagnosis, and Misunderstandings

Our conversation went deeper into school experiences, writing struggles, and the complicated journey to diagnosis.

Eileen: I wasn’t diagnosed with NLD until high school, junior or senior year. For years, I was classified under “other health impaired” because of a childhood seizure disorder. My mom knew that didn’t quite fit.

When she pushed for more testing, one administrator suggested I might have autism. But my mom and teachers knew that wasn’t right. Yes, I had social challenges. But I didn’t have meltdowns when routines changed. I followed directions. I adapted.

Eventually, we got the right diagnosis: NLD. It explained so much—the struggles with geometry, the difficulty with writing by hand, the challenges with visual-spatial processing. It wasn’t autism, and it wasn’t just seizures. It was something else entirely.

Jen: That resonates with me, too. I wasn’t diagnosed until college. Before that, I compared myself constantly to my brother, noticing how much easier school seemed for him. Math and writing were especially tough for me. Did you struggle with those, too?

Eileen: Algebra made sense to me, but geometry? Nearly impossible. And writing… well, I knew what I wanted to say, but the physical act of writing was so slow and painful. Before computers, teachers couldn’t even read my handwriting. When computers came along, they helped. My ideas finally had a way out.

Visual-Spatial Challenges

Jen: I can relate to that. And another challenge I’ve always had is with visual-spatial tasks—driving, reading maps, judging distances. Did you experience that too?

Eileen: Absolutely. Cross-country courses, for example, were really tough. Too many visuals, too many turns. Sometimes I’d get lost. At the time, I didn’t fully understand why. But now, I know it was my visual-spatial disability.

I don’t drive. It’s just not safe for me. And that’s okay. We all find different ways to navigate life. For me, inclusion in sports gave me enough independence and community, even without driving.

Jen: That makes total sense. For me, driving has always been hard. I can do it, but slowly, cautiously, with extra attention. I’ve had a few fender-benders. Nothing major, but they remind me to be careful.

Closing Reflections

Our conversation spanned a wide range of topics—school, sports, diagnosis, and the daily realities of living with NLD. What stood out most to me was Eileen’s resilience. She’s honest about the difficulties, but she doesn’t let them erase her determination to advocate, to write, to belong.

That’s the power of sharing our stories. We remind each other we’re not alone.

This was just the first part of our interview. In the next section, Eileen and I will delve deeper into her writing, advocacy, and what inclusion truly means today.