When the Fight Became Clear: A Parent’s Perspective

A Personal Story By Anne Murphy:

When my child was diagnosed with Dyslexia, Dysgraphia, Dyscalculia, and an Auditory Processing Disorder, my first feeling wasn’t fear; it was sadness. A deep, heavy sadness. I realized that for years, we had been asking him to do things that were not just difficult, but emotionally painful. Something as simple as practicing reading had been, for him, an impossible uphill climb. At the same time, there was relief. Finally, there was a name for the struggle. Finally, we knew what we were facing, and that meant there was help.

Before the diagnosis, I understood learning disabilities only on a surface level. I knew they existed, but I didn’t grasp what they truly meant day-to-day, or how deeply they could affect a child’s confidence, identity, and future. Once we were in it, everything became clearer and heavier.

I wasn’t scared as much as I was heartbroken. I knew what had to be done, but that didn’t make the journey easier. At times, it felt like every step forward came with resistance. Every win required a fight. The process became overwhelming, not because we doubted our child, but because the system itself felt stacked against him.

What surprised me was that I didn’t feel guilt or self-blame, just sadness that we hadn’t figured it out sooner. You can’t change the past, but you can grieve the time lost and commit fully to what comes next.

The hardest part of navigating the education system was realizing that decisions were often driven by budgets, not by what our child was paying in emotional or academic terms. The cost—financial, mental, and emotional- was staggering. It became clear that advocating for your child isn’t optional; it’s essential.

We were fortunate. We were connected to a school that truly understood learning challenges, and through a dedicated language lab teacher, we found the right advocates, people who knew how to fight for our son when we couldn’t do it alone. That support changed everything.

Looking back, I wish I had known two things from the beginning: that help truly exists, and that the fight would be long and hard. This is not a quick fix. It’s a marathon filled with small battles, meetings, evaluations, setbacks, and rare but powerful victories. When your child’s future feels like it’s hanging in the balance, every moment is emotional. The highs are high. The lows can be crushing.

What keeps you going is simple and powerful: great advocates, and the unconditional love you have for your child. That love fuels you when you’re exhausted, frustrated, or ready to give up.

If I could give advice to a parent just starting this journey, it would be this: get the best advocate and lawyer you can afford. Don’t give up, no matter how much is thrown in your way. And try to remember, however hard it is, that this isn’t personal to the school district. To them, it’s money. To you, it’s your child’s life.

Most of all, love your child fiercely. Keep them out of the battles as much as you can. Fight for them, but protect them from the weight of the fight. Move forward with passion, but stay calm and rational, even in the hardest moments. Trust your advocates, trust your gut, and understand that this process won’t always make sense.

There is help. There is hope. And while the journey is long, it is worth every step when it means giving your child the chance to thrive—not just survive.