When Music Became My Language

A personal hypothesis on rhythm, prosody and neurodivergent learning.

For most of my life, I assumed these were simply unrelated quirks.

Only recently have I begun to wonder whether they might all point towards the same question.

I am not a neuroscientist.

I am a dyslexic adult, currently awaiting autism and ADHD assessment, raising neurodivergent children. Everything below begins as observation, not conclusion.

But perhaps that is where many scientific questions begin.

The first language I seemed to understand

One of my earliest memories is standing at the top of our landing calling for my mother and siblings.

Not speaking.

Singing.

Sometimes because I enjoyed the acoustic feedback—the echo and resonance of my own voice.

Sometimes because I was upset.

When I became distressed, my speech naturally became long, drawn-out and almost melodic. Looking back, I wasn’t choosing to do this. It was simply my default.

I also remember making up a song at around six years old. Decades later, I can still remember every word.

Even today, I can hear a song on the radio that I haven’t heard for twenty years and still remember the lyrics after hearing it only once as a child.

Why?

School never discovered how my brain learned

By Year 9, teachers genuinely didn’t seem to know how to teach me. I spent long periods in “special needs” lessons in rooms filled with children’s toys, but with no specialist teacher available there was little meaningful education.

When I eventually left school, nobody suddenly taught me an evidence-based programme for dyslexia.

Instead…

I began experimenting myself.

I started writing poetry—not because anyone told me to, but because I loved rhythm and rhyme.

If I became stuck while writing, I wouldn’t search for the next word.

I’d simply read the poem back to myself.

Eventually, the rhythm almost told me what the next word should be.

The flow guided the language.

Looking back now, I don’t think I was simply writing poetry.

I think I was using rhythm as a scaffold for language.

Then I remembered Carol Vorderman

As a child I remember watching Carol Vorderman’s educational maths songs when the television was wheeled into the classroom at the end of term.

Unlike ordinary maths lessons, these fascinated me.

The musical presentation revealed mathematical patterns I had previously struggled to understand.

It felt as though somebody had finally presented mathematics in a language my brain naturally understood.

Not because the answers were easier…

…but because the structure suddenly made sense.

Then I became a parent

Years later, my own daughters struggled to remember their morning routine.

Colourful reminder charts did very little.

So I did something without thinking.

I turned the routine into a rhyme.

“Toilet, hands, teeth and face.”

I clapped each syllable while saying it.

Within days they were remembering the sequence themselves.

Even now, as young adults, we still laugh about it because they can both instantly recite their morning routine exactly the same way.

I wasn’t following parenting advice.

I was unknowingly teaching them the way I had taught myself.

Then came my son

My son is currently on the autism assessment pathway.

One of the observations documented by school is that he often doesn’t respond when people call his name.

Yet something unexpected happens.

If I sing his name…

…he often turns.

If I sing instructions…

…he responds far more consistently than when I simply speak them.

He also seeks out singing himself and frequently repeats choruses.

Again, I don’t know why.

But it made me ask another question.

Even our house seems to respond

Around Bonfire Night someone once suggested playing calming music for anxious dogs.

We tried it.

The dogs settled.

But something else happened.

Our whole household became calmer.

Classical music.

Slow jazz.

Everyone seemed more regulated.

Perhaps coincidence.

Perhaps expectation.

Or perhaps rhythm genuinely changes how some brains regulate attention and emotion.

What does the research actually say?

This is where I became surprised.

Modern research is beginning to show that rhythm and prosody may play a much larger role in language than many people realise.

Prosody—the rhythm, stress and melody of speech—has repeatedly been linked with reading development. A 2024 meta-analysis found moderate-to-large differences in prosodic abilities between people with developmental dyslexia and age-matched peers, supporting the idea that prosodic processing deserves greater attention in dyslexia research.

Professor Usha Goswami’s Temporal Sampling Framework proposes that some people with dyslexia may process the rhythmic structure of speech differently. Rather than focusing only on letters, the theory suggests the brain’s tracking of speech rhythm may influence later phonological development and reading. Studies investigating rhythm perception, musical metre and reading have reported associations that are consistent with this framework, although they do not establish that rhythm differences are the sole cause of dyslexia.

Research into music-based interventions paints a similarly cautious picture. Reviews suggest that musical and rhythmic training can improve phonological awareness in many struggling readers, but improvements in reading itself are less consistent and more research is needed to identify which approaches work, for whom, and why.

Interestingly, retailers have understood for decades that music can subtly influence behaviour. Classic research by Ronald Milliman found that slower background music encouraged supermarket shoppers to move more slowly through stores and was associated with increased sales, while faster music encouraged customers to move through the shop more quickly.

Prosody is also an important area of autism research. Systematic reviews have shown that interventions specifically targeting prosody can improve aspects of speech in autistic people, although individuals vary considerably and there is no single pattern that applies to everyone.

The influence of rhythm extends beyond dyslexia. Many people who stammer find they can sing more fluently than they can speak. Some people with Tourette syndrome report fewer tics while singing or playing music, while rhythmic cueing is widely used to improve walking in Parkinson’s disease. These conditions are very different, yet each raises the same intriguing question:

Could rhythm and melody provide an alternative route through which the brain organises language, movement, attention and emotional regulation?

So what if…

None of these observations prove a common neurological mechanism.

They may ultimately prove to be unrelated.

However, when similar themes begin appearing across education, speech, memory, movement and emotional regulation, they raise a question that I believe deserves further investigation.

What if music isn’t simply entertainment?

What if rhythm is one of the brain’s organising principles?

What if some neurodivergent brains rely more heavily on rhythm, timing and melody to organise language, attention, memory and learning?

Could that explain why:

* some autistic children respond better when language is sung?
* poetry helped me find words that prose could not?
* rhythmic routines were easier for my daughters to remember?
* songs remain in my memory decades later, despite still struggling to retain information presented in more conventional ways?
* music can help regulate some neurodivergent households?

I don’t know.

Neither, I suspect, does anyone else.

My hypothesis

I’m not suggesting music cures dyslexia.

Nor am I suggesting that dyslexia, autism, Tourette syndrome and Parkinson’s disease share the same underlying cause.

My question is much simpler.

Have we underestimated the importance of rhythm, prosody and melody in how some brains learn, remember, regulate and communicate?

Perhaps these are isolated coincidences.

Or perhaps they are small pieces of a much larger puzzle that deserves to be explored.

If you’re a researcher working in dyslexia, autism, music cognition, speech science or educational neuroscience, I’d genuinely love to hear your thoughts.

Sometimes science begins not with certainty…

…but with someone quietly noticing a pattern that everybody else has overlooked.


Disclaimer

This article reflects my personal observations, lived experience and interpretation of the current scientific literature. It is not intended to present established scientific fact or clinical advice.

The research cited throughout represents published evidence that has informed my thinking, but the connections I discuss are my own hypothesis and should be considered speculative unless supported by future research.

My aim is not to claim answers, but to ask questions that I believe may be worthy of further scientific investigation. I welcome constructive discussion, alternative explanations and evidence that supports or challenges the ideas presented here.

Curiosity has always been at the heart of scientific discovery. If this article encourages even one new question, then it has achieved exactly what I hoped it would.

Goswami, U. (2011). A temporal sampling framework for developmental dyslexia. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 15(1), 3–10. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.tics.2010.10.001

Mundy, I. R., & Wood, C. (2024). Prosody and developmental dyslexia: A meta-analysis. Reading and Writing. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11145-024-10610-y

Bhide, A., Power, A., & Goswami, U. (2013). A rhythmic musical intervention for poor readers: A comparison of efficacy with a letter-based intervention. Mind, Brain, and Education, 7(2), 113–123.

Flaugnacco, E., Lopez, L., Terribili, C., Zoia, S., Buda, S., Tilli, S., Monasta, L., Montico, M., Sila, A., Ronfani, L., & Schön, D. (2015). Music training increases phonological awareness and reading skills in developmental dyslexia: A randomized control trial. PLOS ONE, 10(9), e0138715.

Gordon, R. L., Shivers, C. M., Wieland, E. A., Kotz, S. A., Yoder, P. J., & McAuley, J. D. (2015). Musical rhythm discrimination explains individual differences in grammar skills in children. Developmental Science, 18(4), 635–644.

Miller Kupferberg, A., Amir, O., & Kishon-Rabin, L. (2020). Prosody interventions for children and adults with autism spectrum disorder: A systematic review. American Journal of Speech-Language Pathology. https://doi.org/10.1044/2020_AJSLP-19-00127

Zumbansen, A., Peretz, I., & Hébert, S. (2014). Melodic Intonation Therapy: Back to basics for future research. In Rhythms of Speech and Language. Cambridge University Press.

Milliman, R. E. (1982). Using background music to affect the behavior of supermarket shoppers. Journal of Marketing, 46(3), 86–91. https://doi.org/10.1177/002224298204600313

Patel, A. D. (2008). Music, Language, and the Brain. Oxford University Press.

Levitin, D. J. (2006). This Is Your Brain on Music. Dutton.

Goswami, U. (2014). Children’s Cognitive Development and Learning (2nd ed.). Sage.