Dyslexia Was Not Only About Reading

What the research found

This study looked at 61 children in the State of Sao Paulo, Brazil. Thirty-one had been diagnosed with developmental dyslexia after referral to a paediatric neurology clinic. Thirty had no learning difficulties and served as a comparison group. The children were between 7 and 14 years old, with an average age of about 9.7 years. The researchers measured emotional and behavioural difficulties using two standard tools: the Child Behaviour Checklist, filled in by parents, and the Children’s Depression Inventory, answered by the children themselves.

The pattern was consistent. On almost every measure, the children with dyslexia scored higher for difficulty than their peers. On the checklist’s anxiety and depression scale, the dyslexia group averaged 8.26, against 4.77 for the comparison group. On the children’s own depression inventory, the dyslexia group averaged 6.48, against 3.33. Total behaviour problems reported by parents were more than double: 57.35 versus 27.13. These gaps were statistically significant, meaning they are unlikely to be a fluke of this particular sample.

The size of the differences matters as much as their existence. Researchers express this using a figure called Cohen’s d, which describes how far apart two groups are relative to the ordinary spread within them. Roughly, 0.2 is small, 0.5 is moderate, and 0.8 or above is large. Here the differences ranged from 0.45 to 1.86. Attention problems showed the widest gap, at 1.86. Depression scores sat at 1.09, and total behaviour problems at 1.10. Only somatic complaints, meaning physical symptoms such as aches, failed to reach significance. Most gaps were moderate to large.

The most sobering single figure concerns thoughts of self-harm. None of the children in the comparison group endorsed the statement about thinking of killing themselves. Among the children with dyslexia, 16 percent chose the response “I think about killing myself but would not do it.” That is roughly one child in six. It is a screening item, not a clinical diagnosis of suicidal intent, and the wording explicitly excludes acting on the thought. But it is not a difference to wave away.

Two cautions belong here, and the authors state them plainly. First, this is a small, cross-sectional study. It captures a single moment, not a trajectory, and 61 children is a modest sample. Second, the tools were designed to screen for general symptoms, not to diagnose specific conditions. The authors also note they did not separate results by sex or by age, and they call for larger, longitudinal work to follow these children over time.

What it means for your child

The clearest message is one of association, not cause. This study shows that dyslexia and emotional distress travel together. It does not show, and cannot show, that dyslexia causes depression or anxiety. A snapshot of two groups at one point in time cannot untangle direction. It is plausible that the daily strain of struggling to read, often while feeling out of step with classmates, wears on a child’s mood. It is equally plausible that attention difficulties, family circumstances, or the experience of being referred to a clinic play a part. This design cannot separate those threads, and it would be a mistake to read a mechanism into it.

What the study does establish is worth holding onto: emotional and behavioural difficulties are common enough among children with dyslexia that they deserve attention alongside the reading itself. It is easy for a diagnosis to become entirely about decoding words, phonics, and reading speed. This work is a reminder that the child underneath may also be anxious, withdrawn, or low. The reading support and the emotional support are not separate projects.

For a parent, this argues for widening the lens. If your child has dyslexia, it is reasonable to pay attention to mood, sleep, motivation, and how they speak about themselves, not only to their progress on the page. Persistent sadness, withdrawal from friends, or any expression of hopelessness warrants a conversation with your GP or a qualified professional. The self-harm finding here, however it is framed, is a case for taking such signals seriously rather than assuming a bright child will simply cope.

It also argues for the value of intervention that addresses confidence and not just competence. A child who reads better but still believes they are stupid has only been half helped. Good tutoring works on both: it rebuilds the specific skill and, quietly, the sense that the difficulty is a solvable problem rather than a verdict on the child. The two reinforce each other.

Finally, hold this study in proportion. It is one small case-control study from a single clinic in Brazil. It cannot tell you what any individual child will feel, and it is not a prediction. Its role is to raise a reasonable question, not to settle one. The sensible response is neither alarm nor dismissal, but attention: to notice the whole child, to keep the channels of conversation open, and to seek help early if the mood, and not only the reading, seems to be struggling.