Affecting 80 to 90 percent of those diagnosed with learning disabilities, dyslexia stands as the most widespread learning difference. Despite its prevalence, dyslexia is often misunderstood within educational and diagnostic systems, as the severity and specific nature of its challenges can vary greatly from person to person.

I designed a dyslexia simulation as an empathetic tool grounded in my own challenges with reading and writing. Through this interface, I aimed to highlight the urgency of legislation and other support systems that safeguard individuals with learning disabilities in educational settings.

Drawing from my earliest encounters with dyslexia, the site’s visual language is rooted in the sensory cues of childhood learning. Oversaturated colors, thick lines, and simplified forms recall the pedagogical tools of early education. These graphic elements are reinterpreted through a typographic lens, forming a visual system that mirrors both the clarity and chaos of navigating reading as a neurodivergent learner.

Strain takes on a major theme in the ethos of this site. Before embracing my differences, I saw my dyslexia as a great strain on my academic success. For me, its challenges extend beyond decoding text and into the sensory realm: marked by overstimulation, frustration, and cognitive fatigue. These aspects are often underrepresented or misinterpreted in portrayals of dyslexic experiences. For my site’s design, I aimed to unveil strain as a defining feature, and it's a theme I’ve intentionally embedded in the site’s visual identity.

My approach was to examine strain in two forms: the pedantic and subversive. Each stakes out a portion of the site through the landing page and the home page. The pentadic landing page was designed to overstimulate through strenuous reading circumstances. With oversaturated colors, long line lengths, and a distracting animation, it takes an anti-user experience approach that embodies the physical sensation of weight that dyslexia might impose on an individual. On the homepage, however, you're met with a more forgiving UI that allows you to experience a more reductive, literal stance on the dyslexic experience, such as mixing up letters and seeing rivers in text.

This duality moves experience beyond surface-level interpretations of dyslexia, inviting users to engage with the emotional and sensory weight it carries. More than a visual simulation, the interface was designed to reflect the internal reality: how dyslexia feels, not just how it functions. Altogether, the work serves as a more powerful tool for empathy, highlighting the importance of support systems that protect individuals with learning disabilities in educational settings.