Living With NVLD: Frustrations, Realities, and Strengths
Like I mentioned in my last solo episode, I’ve been dealing with quite a bit lately. Some of it has been migraines, some of it has been family drama. Honestly, I might write about that in a future podcast episode, but for now, please bear with me.
I’ve realized I need to do more podcast scripting because if I don’t, I’ll start to fall behind. If you go a week or two without hearing from me, that’s probably why. Life happens. I hope you can be flexible with me and understand that my podcast isn’t the only thing I’m juggling.
I have a full-time job and a side tech business I’m trying to grow. Balancing everything is tough. But here we are—today’s episode (and now this chapter) is about something deeply personal:
Why it can be so frustrating to be an NVLDer.
If you’re neurodivergent, you might relate. If you’re neurotypical, maybe you’ll see some parallels—or maybe you’ll just gain insight into how different brains operate.
The Everyday Frustrations of a Different Brain
Have you ever been annoyed because your brain works differently from most people’s? Or frustrated because you remember events differently from others?
For me, this happens a lot. I often remember more details about an event than the people around me, especially family members. My brain tends to zoom in on tiny pieces of information but struggles to capture the big picture—like trying to assemble a puzzle when the pieces are out of order.
Sometimes, I end up repeating myself—either because others forget what they told me, or because they don’t remember what I’ve told them. I suspect my auditory memory is stronger than most people’s, which means I hold onto conversations more vividly than others do.
Describing how my brain works is hard—partly because I’m still figuring it out myself, and partly because NVLD (Nonverbal Learning Disability) doesn’t have one universally agreed-upon definition.
What Other NVLDers Experience
I’ve read many stories from other NVLDers, and they resonate with me deeply. One by Anita, a Norwegian woman diagnosed at 51, described NVLD as having the hardware of a 1990s computer but not enough RAM to run modern programs. She talked about feeling like she’s constantly fighting with her brain just to keep up.
She also noted that NVLD isn’t just about learning—it touches every aspect of life. It affects how we interpret facial expressions, gestures, and visual information. It makes the world feel unpredictable.
I can relate. It’s not just about reading a map wrong or misjudging distances—it’s about the daily mental effort of trying to fit into a world that communicates in ways I don’t naturally pick up on.
The Reality of Neurodiversity
According to the Cleveland Clinic, neurodiversity isn’t something you can “cure” or “prevent.” It’s simply the way a brain develops. You can manage some aspects—through therapy, strategies, or medication—but it’s part of you for life.
I find that validating, but also a little sobering. When you’re diagnosed, you have to face the reality:
“This is something I’ll be dealing with for the rest of my life.”
With NVLD, that also means learning to work around related challenges—like my migraines, which started around the same time I was diagnosed. Over eight years, I’ve tried dozens of treatments. Some work for a while, then stop. Others don’t help at all. And often, doctors don’t know what to do with the neurodiversity piece of the puzzle.
It’s frustrating when the medical system can’t connect the dots, and you feel like you’re the only one who can advocate for yourself.
The Confusing Signs of NVLD
An article from the Understood team lists five traits that often puzzle parents and teachers:
Talking but not connecting — Large vocabulary but trouble with casual conversation or reading social cues.
Asking questions but not exploring — Preferring verbal answers over hands-on discovery.
Strong reading and spelling, but weak comprehension — Great at decoding words but missing the deeper meaning.
Memorizing math answers but not understanding concepts — Reliance on rote memory rather than visualizing math.
Memorizing facts but struggling to share them appropriately — Difficulty recognizing when others aren’t interested.
I relate to all of these. I’ve learned a lot of facts over the years, but not everyone wants to hear them—sometimes they even look confused about why I brought them up.
Learning to Speak Up
One of the hardest parts of NVLD is reading nonverbal cues. If you can’t tell how someone is reacting, you might either stay quiet too often—or talk without realizing you’ve lost their attention.
I’ve learned that the best way to improve is to ask directly: “I’m not sure what that meant—can you help me understand?” It’s not easy, but it’s better than staying stuck.
Progress is slow, but it’s there. You have to remind yourself of the things you’ve improved on, or you’ll spiral into thinking you haven’t gotten anywhere. I’ve been down that road too many times, and I’m working hard not to go there again.
Final Thoughts
Living with NVLD means managing differences, not erasing them. It means advocating for yourself, experimenting with strategies, and finding the balance between pushing your limits and giving yourself grace.
If you know someone with NVLD who might want to share their story, I’d love to interview them for my podcast, Living with NLD. You can reach me at livingwithNLD@gmail.com.
Until next time—remember to notice your strengths, journal about your progress, and keep finding ways to make life work for you.
