Oscar’s Story – Teaching, Advocacy, and Living with NVLD

Today’s conversation is with Oscar, a fellow social ambassador for the NVLD Project. He was diagnosed with Nonverbal Learning Disability (NVLD) at the age of nine and is now twenty-two. Oscar lives in London, works as a teaching assistant, and studied at West Herts College. He also happens to be a fan of The Big Bang Theory.

What struck me most during this interview was not just Oscar’s honesty, but his blend of humor and resilience. Our talk covered his work, his advocacy, and his everyday life with NVLD. I’ve divided it into two parts so that readers (and listeners of the original podcast) can take it in more easily.

Beginnings and Diagnosis

Oscar introduced himself with his characteristic directness:

“Hi, I’m Oscar. I live in London. I’m twenty-two, and I was diagnosed with NVLD at the age of nine.”

I told him that I was diagnosed later, at nineteen, while in college. Our ages of diagnosis shaped how we each came to understand our differences. For Oscar, NVLD was part of his childhood from early on. For me, it explained struggles I hadn’t fully understood until adulthood.

When I asked about his work, he said:

“I’m a teaching assistant at a secondary school. I work in the special educational needs department, supporting kids with learning difficulties. Because I have NVLD myself, I feel I can empathize with them more.”

That struck a chord with me. In my own work with children and adults on the autism spectrum, I also felt that sense of connection—an understanding that comes from shared lived experience.

Becoming an Ambassador

I was curious what led him to become an ambassador for the NVLD Project. Oscar explained:

“Honestly, I was looking for a change. At my old school I wasn’t happy, and I wondered if there was a way to work in NVLD awareness. I found the NVLD Project online and emailed them asking about jobs. They told me they couldn’t offer a paid position, but I could write blogs and become an ambassador. And I thought—yeah, that sounds awesome.”

For Oscar, writing became a new platform to share his story.

“The first blog was the hardest,” he admitted. “With so much to write about, I didn’t know where to start. So I just introduced myself. Over time, I’ve had lots of topics I could cover. It’s a unique opportunity—to write for a platform dedicated to NVLD.”

I shared that one of my most difficult blogs was about comorbidity—balancing NVLD with chronic migraines. Writing about one condition without overshadowing the other was a challenge. But like Oscar, I found it meaningful to give voice to experiences many don’t see.

Frustrations and “What Ifs”

When I asked how he felt about having NVLD, Oscar was candid:

“There are periods of frustration. I think about the what-ifs—like, would I be better at math if I didn’t have NVLD? Would I be different socially? But in the end, I own it. Nothing can change it, so I can’t dwell on the what-ifs.”

I told him I understood. Math has always been one of my toughest subjects, and while I’ve improved with tutors and support, finances still challenge me. Oscar echoed that struggle.

“Maths has been hard since childhood. I still struggle with money and finances. My brother helped me when I moved out in 2020—writing things down step by step so I could manage rent and bills. My maths isn’t great, but it’s as good as it’s gonna get. I’ve accepted that.”

That kind of acceptance—tempered with humor—is something I deeply admired in him.

Direction, Literal Thinking, and Funny Missteps

One of the funniest yet revealing parts of our conversation was when Oscar shared a story about getting directions from his mom in central London:

“She sent me screenshots with landmarks to help me find my way. It worked most of the time—except once, when one picture had a homeless man in it. So I went looking for the homeless man as my landmark. Of course, he wasn’t there, and I got lost. When I told my mom, she laughed and said, ‘Oscar, that wasn’t the landmark!’ It just shows how literal I can be.”

I laughed in recognition, then shared my own story from UC Berkeley, where I accidentally boarded the wrong bus after spring break and left my phone behind. That moment of panic—getting lost, losing something, and feeling overwhelmed—is something many with NVLD know all too well.

Growing Up with NVLD

Oscar reflected on his early years with NVLD:

“As a kid, I didn’t really understand it. I had teaching assistants in school, which I resisted at first. I wanted independence. But as I grew older, I realized they were there to help me, not hold me back. It wasn’t until my late teens that I really understood what NVLD meant for me.”

I related, recalling how I compared myself to my brother—his ease with math, writing, and time management versus my struggles. Only later did I learn that accommodations, like extended exam time, could make a big difference.

Family and Support

Oscar shared that his mother has been his biggest support, though sometimes he feels most understood by colleagues:

“My dad once told me, ‘Oscar, you see things in black and white.’ And he was right. But my mom has been with me through everything. Still, I often feel like my colleagues in the special educational needs department get me the best. They work with learning difficulties daily, so opening up to them feels natural.”

I agreed. Having supportive people—whether family, friends, or colleagues—makes a huge difference when living with NVLD.

Strengths and Talents

Despite challenges, Oscar highlighted talents that come with his NVLD:

“I’m into video editing, and I can do it for hours without getting bored. I’m also obsessed with documentaries—I can watch the same one over and over. Editing is probably my strongest skill.”

I told him I also enjoy editing, particularly for my podcast, and that I’m good at memorizing lines and song lyrics. Oscar added that he has an exceptional memory for dates, often surprising his family with his recall of events years ago.

What He Wishes People Knew

Near the end of our conversation, I asked Oscar what he wished neurotypical people understood about NVLD. He recalled a quote from a short film by the NVLD Project:

“The one thing I wish people knew is—we don’t mean to not understand what you’re saying.”

He added:

“If we mess something up, it’s not deliberate. Mistakes hurt us too—we beat ourselves up for them. All we ask is that people give us a chance and get to know us before making assumptions.”

I agreed wholeheartedly. For me, mistakes can feel crushing, especially if I repeat them. But reframing them as part of learning, and not as failures, is key.

Final Reflections

When asked if he ever wishes he didn’t have NVLD, Oscar admitted:

“Sometimes, yeah. Especially when anxiety kicks in—like traveling alone or dealing with maths at work. But in the end, it is what it is. You can’t change it, only live with it.”

That honesty, paired with resilience, made our conversation both grounding and inspiring.

Closing

Talking with Oscar reminded me that NVLD is not just a set of challenges—it’s a way of experiencing the world differently. With support, creativity, and self-acceptance, those differences can lead to unique strengths.

For readers, I’d encourage you to try a journaling exercise: write about your own gifts and differences. Ask yourself how you might make one of your challenges easier. Reflection is the first step toward both self-awareness and growth.

For more resources, visit livingwithnld.com or follow the Living with NLD pages on Facebook and Instagram. If you or someone you know would like to share their story, email me at livingwithNLD@gmail.com.