Some journeys in life are chosen. Others are given to us, quietly, without warning, shaping who we become long before we realize it. My journey as a father to a child with dyslexia is one I never expected but one I now carry with more love and determination than anything else in my life.

Every day I watch my son try. And every day, I watch him struggle. I sit beside him, teaching him something simple, something small. For a moment, his eyes light up he understands. Then a few seconds pass, and the knowledge slips away like water through open fingers. I see the confusion in his eyes. I see the frustration he hides behind silence. And it breaks something inside me, every single time.

People tell me It will get better. Doctors say, Give it time. And maybe they’re right. Because when he was three, he barely spoke a word. He stayed inside his shell, avoiding people, avoiding the world. But today… today he talks. He laughs. He connects. Slowly, gently, he is opening his heart to others. That alone is proof that hope is real.

Still, the challenges remain. He studies, yet forgets. He tries, yet freezes during his exams. He failed two midterm subjects not because he didn’t know the answers, but because he didn’t write anything at all. When I asked him why, he whispered I wrote nothing. I didn’t scold him.
How could I? He is already fighting battles most people never see.

Recently, he has started telling small lies, getting into little mischiefs not out of bad intention, but out of fear or confusion. These are not signs of a bad child. These are signs of a child trying to understand a world that often moves too fast for him.

And through all of this, I just want one thing: For my son to feel safe. To feel understood. To feel supported, even when he cannot explain what he is going through. I want to be there for him not just physically in the mornings and evenings but fully present, guiding him, holding space for him. If I could earn even 500 dollars a month from online, I would quit my job tomorrow. Without hesitation. Because no job is worth more than the chance to stand beside my son when he needs me most.

He is not a burden.
He is not a challenge to overcome.
He is my pride, my purpose, my heart walking outside my body.

One day he will look back and see how hard he fought. One day he will understand that while the world tried to measure him with tests and grades, I saw only his spirit, his courage, and his quiet brilliance. And I hope he remembers this that his father never wanted perfection from him.
Just effort. Just honesty. Just the chance to watch him grow at his own pace.

Whatever tomorrow brings whether he writes in his exam or not my love for him will not change. His worth does not depend on a paper. His future is not limited by a score. He is learning in his own way. He is blooming in his own time. And I will walk beside him, no matter how long the road, no matter how slow the journey.

Because he is my son. And I am his father. And we will rise together, one small step, one small victory, one beautiful day at a time.