Make Room For The Stuttering

Do you know this feeling? You are in the middle of a thought, a sentence and not thinking at all about your speech? You’re actually feeling comfortable and confident. And then you stutter.

Not just a barely noticed repetition, but a good hard block. One that lasts longer than you can try to pass off as something else. I flush, my chest tightens, my heart pounds, and I find myself breaking eye contact.

I tell myself all the time that I am OK with stuttering and that I have accepted it, and then this happens. I feel self-conscious. I don’t like it.

I am comfortable stuttering while talking about stuttering. Makes sense, right? But when I am doing a presentation to a neutral audience and the topic has nothing to do with stuttering, I sometimes feel self-conscious when I stutter. It’s hard for me to admit that, because I honestly thought I was past that.

When I give talks to SLPs or colleagues about stuttering and the emotions that go with it, I have no problem stuttering freely. In fact, I feel quite comfortable being able to be so wholly free. But when doing an important speech to a non-stuttering friendly audience, I still get that self-conscious shameful feeling. That I cannot control. I cannot will myself to not flush. So not only do I feel out of control with the stuttering moment, but also with the physical reaction that makes me look uncomfortable.

I shared this at my self-help group earlier in the week. I rarely disclose feelings with this group – for some reason I feel particularly vulnerable when I do. Even though we all stutter and it should be the ideal place to discuss feeling vulnerable and self-conscious, I find it hard with mostly men.

After sharing, I got feedback. One guy asked why I wouldn’t just make an announcement at the start of any talk I do to let folks I know I stutter. He said that of all people, he surely thought that I would do that automatically, since I talk about empowerment and self-advocacy. Several SLP students thought I should do that as well, seize the opportunity to educate at those moments.

I tried to explain the dilemma I sometimes feel – that I don’t always want to talk about stuttering. That making “such an announcement” is not always what I want to do. Several other people chimed in that it would make sense to do that – I would be killing two birds with one stone.  One of the SLP supervisors then asked what I could do to “relax” before a big talk that might make me anxious about feeling self-conscious.

The problem is that the self-conscious feeling just creeps in there unexpectedly. Adding to the complexity that stuttering is. Some relaxation techniques were then bantered around. Finally another member commented that she (the only other woman in the group) thought the group was being a little harsh on me. Afterward, one guy came up to me and apologized. I told him there was no need to apologize. For what? Maybe he felt uncomfortable.

I felt self-conscious for bringing up self-consciousness! Darn emotions! Why are they always part of the equation, huh?

Being reflective today. I went back and looked at some of my earlier writings and poems. This one I wrote almost two years ago.

I felt like re-printing it today. It could have just as well been written yesterday.

Maybe I am starting to answer the question.

What if I don’t like the person I become?
What if I don’t like what’s left after all the layers are gone?
What if other people don’t like what is left of me?
Will I be even lonelier then?
Will I cry as much?
Will anyone else cry for me?
Will it hurt to peel the layers off?
What if there is nothing left of me that I have become used to?
What then? Will it be too late for me?

I want to be real, but what will that do to me?
I ask myself, how can it possibly get any worse.

The layers protect me. Can I protect myself?
Can I really do this?
I want to, but I am scared.
How will it feel? Will I feel?

Who will look back at me in the glass?
Will I be happy with my true self?
What will she sound like?
Will my true self have a soothing voice that others want to hear?
What will she look like?
Will she smile more?
Will I want to be with my true self?
Will I be happy being with my true self?
Because sometimes I am not happy being with myself now.
I find lots of things to do to avoid being with myself.

I don’t belief in my Self.
Will Self believe in me?
I want to press on and find out, but I am scared.
Why am I so scared?
Is it fear of what I will find?
What if there is no richness?
What if there is no one?
Will I find a kind soul, or is it too late?
Will I know what to do?
Will I know when I get there?
Will there be a “we”?
Who will I share my true self with?
I want to share her with someone.
Will anybody be there when I arrive?
Who will be waiting for her?

I was at my sister Kimberly’s house and met her friend Max for the first time. I knew that Kim had told Max about me, as she had told him about this blog and he had read several posts. Max and I had also chatted via email a couple of times.  He had shared with me that he had stuttered a bit as a child.

I had told Kim that I would like to meet Max in person sometime, and voila, it happened last week. He’s a nice guy and we were chatting easily about different things. At one point, he said to me, “you don’t stutter, I haven’t heard you stutter at all”. I said something like, “yes, I do, I really do-you just wait, you’ll hear it!”

Sometime later in the conversation, Max remarked, “Oh, you’re right. I hear it now. You’re stuttering”.  He said it with such surprise, like he really thought me and my sister had been exaggerating that I stutter for some reason. Like I had made it up!

Anyway, I didn’t think too much more of Max’s comment until later, when we parted and Kim and I talked on the phone. She had been in the bathroom (really!) when Max and I had been chatting. She shared with me that she had laughed when she heard me from her perch say that, “Yes, I really do stutter”. She said it was funny, like I was trying to convince Max that I stuttered. She said I sounded defensive about my stuttering – like this, “yeah, its mine, you can’t have it. Don’t take it away from me.”

She told me again something she has said in the past about my stuttering. “Look at it like this Pam. You and others who stutter – you get to talk like that, while the rest of us don’t. It’s really pretty cool, isn’t it?”

Reminded me of friend’s Daniele Rossi’s web site, Stuttering Is Cool. It is cool if you allow yourself to think of stuttering positively, instead of negatively.

It’s funny to hear what others think about your stuttering. We are always so convinced that others are viewing it and hearing it as a  negative. Not always! Thanks Kim and Max!

I used to love the phrase “your preaching to the choir”. A friend of mine at a previous job used to say that all the time. We would commiserate with one another and talk about how we would do things differently if we were ever in charge. I used to share my ideas of what we could do to make something better, and she would say that I was preaching to the choir.

I have never really considered any of my thoughts or ideas that I share with others to be preaching. I never try to persuade people that only my way of thinking is correct, or that everyone else is all wet if they disagree with me.

I started writing this blog a year ago just to put down on paper my thoughts and feelings about how stuttering has affected my life.  It has had such a grip on me for so long.  Putting voice to my feelings, worries and fears has been tremendously helpful and freeing. When I discovered that other people often felt the same way, and seemed to resonate with what I wrote it seemed to fuel my desire to write. I began to lose the fear I always had about my stuttering self.

This week, someone said that I should not be preaching about “acceptance of stuttering”, that my writing actually discourages people from working to overcome their stuttering. The person further went on to say that the reason I “preach” about acceptance is that I have not been able to overcome my own stutter. And what would happen if pilots, doctors, police, military personnel who stutter only focus on acceptance rather than work to overcome their stuttering. Lives would be at risk.  Promoting acceptance of stuttering is likened to putting lives at risk. I don’t think so – but everyone is entitled to their opinion.

Given that we know there is no known cure for stuttering, it makes a great deal of sense for people to accept that they stutter and may always stutter. Sure, for many people, the use of fluency shaping or stuttering modification techniques helps to manage the stuttering and help the person feel more in control. I like that too. I like to feel  in control, not the other way around. And for me, that has largely occurred because of accepting who I am, all of me, and valuing those very parts of me that I want others to see and value in me too.

We all wish we were more than we are, were more perfect “at” something or could “do” something more perfectly. Sometimes we chase after unrealistic goals or spend too much of our time missing out on opportunities because we have not accepted that part of our self that we wish we could change, or trade or make disappear.

I think it is much easier to move ahead with our life when we have accepted who we are and made a decision to love ourselves as is. When we love self, we can love others and allow others to love us. Acceptance of our stuttering is the core message of Friends, The National Association of Young People Who Stutter and the NSA, The National Stuttering Association.

Adults who stutter need to be accepting of self and show that acceptance so young people (and their parents) don’t fall into the traps of doubt and self-hate. When we accept ourselves for who we are, the stuttering just becomes a part of us and not all of us, and that is a message of hope. We need hope.

So if it sounds like I am preaching when I talk about MY stuttering and how it feels and what impact it has had on MY life, so be it. I would much rather talk about it, embrace it and share it than hide it away as something to be ashamed of that needs fixing. Because not everything needs fixing.

Right?

I was invited to speak to a group of school-based SLPs last week for their professional development day. Someone had heard Joe, Steve and I speak at a conference we facilitated  in the Fall on stuttering. This person suggested to the district coordinator that it would be helpful if one of us could come and share more about the stuttering journey.

I was invited and delighted to be able to accept. It is still amazing to me that SLPs  really want to hear from people who stutter. I remember the first time three years ago when I was asked to tell “my story” to a class of student SLPs. I felt intimidated, thinking what could I really offer that would be of value to “the professionals”.  I was so nervous talking to them, and worried how I would really sound. I remember talking about being covert and not stuttering too much.

Now when I talk to anyone about stuttering, I no longer worry about feeling intimidated. Because I am not. I remind myself that “the field” needs to hear from real people who have experienced the stuttering journey.

This group wanted to hear about what being covert had meant for me, and how I had managed to keep my stuttering hidden for so long. They also wanted to hear about my therapy experiences, including what has worked and what has not. I started off by introducing myself and candidly mentioning that I was going to stutter freely, that it was easier for me to stutter than to try not to. I was so proud that I was able to say that right off the bat. I joked that it was the perfect audience to stutter with, and I immediately felt comfortable.

My talk was planned for 90 minutes. I told my story honestly and held very little back. I talked about the early messages of disapproval I received from my dad and a kindergarten teacher. A few times I paused and glanced around, and noticed that people were wiping away tears and “with me”. I shared with the group that talking about my experiences not only helps others, but gives me such an enriching feeling of value and purpose.

I made sure to leave time for questions and feedback at the end. There were great questions. Several asked my opinion on working with teens who are resistant to fluency shaping techniques, and how can one tell if they are pushing too hard. Here I joked about being very resistant to “target practice” and why. I shared that  fluency shaping makes me feel covert again, which creates an internal struggle. I have worked so hard toward acceptance,why would I want to cover up my stuttering again.

One SLP mentioned that they had always been taught that their job was to fix the stuttering. To give the PWS the tools needed to become fluent.Several then shared how refreshing it is to hear someone talk about not wanting to be fixed, and acceptance and it being OK to stutter. And that it seems there might be a shift away from “trying to fix it”. We ended on this note, this feeling that yes, it is OK to stutter and that sometimes the SLP can do the best work by just acknowledging that.

People came up to me afterward and thanked me for being so honest and letting them in. The coordinator said that she knew I grabbed them, because SLPs love to talk and they were engrossed in listening. I am glad I was able to teach this group something that I hope will stay tucked in their hearts and minds.

Sometimes I switch words intentionally. If I know I am going to stutter on a particular word and I would rather not,  I substitute a word I “think” I can say more fluently. Sometimes, the word switch happens unconsciously. It happened Monday night at self-help group. For the first time, the group supervisor called me on it and put me on the spot a little bit. He asked me if I had switched the word purposely, or had I even been aware that I had done it.

I honestly did not realize I had done that!  He pointed out what word I had started to say and what word I had actually said.  He asked me this in front of everybody at group. About twelve groups members and at least 30 SLP students. This was a big risk for him to do, as its been a sort of unwritten rule that no one is supposed to offer feedback like that publicly to me! Maybe he thought I was ready.

He caught me off guard.I may have flushed a little, but sorted out a response and realized I had not set out to change the word. And it was OK to have him mention it and have me think out loud about it with the group. Maybe that’s what I need someone to challenge me a bit when I am doing something I say I don’t want to do.

The next day, the supervisor called me to let me know he was glad I had returned to group and to reassure me it was ok to stutter freely, especially in group. He wanted me to know it really is okay.

That same evening, after getting home, a friend who also attends group called me to see if I was okay. He too wanted to offer feedback! Geez! He said he thinks I talk way too fast. His exact words were, “Hey, we stutter. Don’t forget that. It’s best to slow down a bit.” He laughed, and asked if I was okay hearing that from him.

He also mentioned that I seem bored. I asked him what he meant by that. He said it seems I am not fully engaged and maybe I am not challenged enough by the happenings of the “fluency” support group. My friend suggested I need more challenge in my life, and that may compensate for the lack of challenge I feel while working on my speech. He suggested I take up skiing. Skiing! He actually suggested this. All I could do was laugh at that. He did too, although he was dead serious. He stutters and skies, so he thinks it’s a perfectly normal connection.

Ahhh, good thing for stuttering friends. They help me to keep things in perspective.

What do you think? Do any of you still switch words, and not even know you are doing it? And is it possible to be bored with our attempts to “work on our speech”? Should we add something more challenging?

There has been interesting conversation going on over on the covert group, of which I have been a part of for over three years. It is amazing how much people who stutter have in common, and how willing we are to share when we feel we have a safe environment and unconditional support.

A graduate SLP student posted that she is conducting a survey to find out more about women who stutter and to see what, if any, issues we have that differ from men who stutter. Several women replied that they are interested in participating in the survey.

I have always felt that women and men approach our stuttering differently. Point in case, in the self-help support group that I attend, which is 90% men who stutter, I have also felt that I am more relationship based with my stuttering and that the men don’t much like talking about the feelings part. Men also seem more interested in quickly learning tools and techniques that might help manage or improve fluency, while myself and the other women more often talk about and share issues related to feelings and acceptance.

Over on the Stuttering Chat group, there are often many discussions about how difficult it is for men who stutter to approach and attract the opposite sex for dating and relationships. I think women feel the same way, maybe we just don’t voice it quite as much as men.

For the first time in years, I have experimented a little with dating. It is as hard as I remember. It is awkward meeting someone you don’t know. I went out with one very nice person for coffee and conversation. We probably won’t see each other again, although it was a very pleasant evening. But I remember working hard to be as fluent as possible. I just did not feel comfortable letting my guard down with him. I stuttered a few times, and was pretty sure he chalked it up to just nervousness.

I also went to dinner last week with a very nice guy. We had a wonderful evening and will probably see each other again. The difference with him is that we got to know each other a bit over the phone first, talking for about a month before meeting. That broke the ice and made both of us feel comfortable. I told him I stutter, and at first he said he couldn’t tell when we first spoke. Of course – because I was intent on being as fluent as possible. But as we got more comfortable, I let myself relax and stutter freely, and he really doesn’t care. He hasn’t said he doesn’t care – I can just tell. He has gently teased me about it, which I took to mean that he is not at all bothered with it.

Telling people who you don’t know that you stutter is a hard thing to do. I worry about when should I say something. If I do, will it be a deal-breaker right away? Will the person be polite and then I never hear from them again? I don’t think its one of the things that you might post on your profile on the on-line dating things. Where would I put it? Under interests, likes, must haves, be nice?  I am sure men probably think and worry about some of these same things. In my case, it seems like I obsess too much over it. Maybe that’s my covert side coming it. As a covert, I was so used to hiding my stuttering, all the time, from everyone, and now that I want to be upfront, this part is still very hard.

I’d like to think that in matters of the heart, a small thing like stuttering shouldn’t matter at all. But it does. To me, and the others of us out there who worry about negative social reactions.

Share your thoughts. Do you think men and women approach their thoughts and feelings about stuttering differently? Are there differences in how people who stutter go about doing the dating and relationship thing?

In preparation for a talk I am doing next week to SLPs, I have done some extra reading of blogs and professional papers on stuttering. Not that I am not already an expert. An expert on my own stuttering, of course! I just like to have fresh ideas on my mind.

I have thought, what influences us when it comes to our stuttering or fluency? Is there certain environments or people who influence us in some way, or that we remember having some sort of impact on us? Even not specifically speech related, I have thought about some of the people or situations that have influenced my life in some way.

I feel like sharing them today. These are some significant people or instances that have made a real impact on me.

My father – my earliest memories are of him yelling at me for the way I talked, or for crying, or for not doing something good enough.

Sr Eleanor – a high school teacher who showed interest and cared about me and even came to my house once to meet my parents to help me figure out what was going on at home.

Wally – a counselor at the Catholic camp that I worked at for two summers (far away from home). Wally escorted me to my Senior prom.

Sonia – my first room-mate at college, who made me realize it was OK to be who I was, because try as I did, I couldn’t be her.

Latourian – the first kid I ever worked with that I just did not like and she did not like me. It was OK – neither of us died from the experience.

Mary – the first person I met at my very first NSA meeting. Listening to someone who talked like me and realizing she was like me, and totally normal, was very reassuring.

Peter – one of the first people who talked openly about the covert struggle. His openness inspired me to be more open about my “secret”.

Jim B- he publicly ridiculed me at work about my stuttering, propelling me to finally want to stand up and speak up for myself

Jean- a wonderful counselor, person and gift. She helped me through some dark times, and then faced her own. She is with the angels now, still watching over me.

Jay – he walks with me on this journey, helping me to see myself and feel my feelings. He allows me to be me when we are together and is not afraid to explore tough stuff.

Rich – my best friend for 23 years. We love and support each other unconditionally. He has helped me understand emotional intimacy.

Kim and Trish – two of my sisters. We have reconnected in a real way after so many years of absence. We lived the same childhoods, yet we are uniquely unique.

My mother – her sickness made me grow up so much faster than I would have had I had a choice.

Me – I have made many changes in the past several years. Sometimes I don’t even recognize  myself anymore. I ask. “Who’s that?”

Who has significantly impacted your life? How does it feel to think about these important people? I feel I have paid tribute to them, in some respect, even if the experience was not entirely positive.

Well, this is odd. I have stuttered much more lately, especially when talking on the phone. I am noticing definite blocks and regular repetitions, even on words that I don’t typically repeat. I am pretty sure this increase is due to more stress in my life, as I know my stuttering pattern most definitely follows the ebbs and flow of my life. And stress is not always bad. I have been busier, trying new things, meeting new people and not getting much sleep.

I do not like when I am stuttering more pronouncedly. I notice it much more and I am aware that I feel more tense when I am stuttering regularly, even when the stuttering is fairly relaxed and easy. When I can hear the stuttering, even if it does not sound particularly unpleasant, I find myself getting more tensed up.

What’s funny right now is that my stuttering support group started up last week after an almost two month hiatus. I have come to enjoy the support and good feelings that comes with hanging out with other people who stutter. It is reassuring to be with a group of people who “get it”, and are safe and nonjudgmental.

But I have intentionally missed the first two weeks of group. Why? I have no idea. This would seem to be the perfect time to “work on” my stuttering or at least be in a very supportive environment. But noooooo! For some reason, I have been resistant and have not wanted to go.

Maybe I so uncomfortable with my increased stuttering that I don’t even want other people who stutter to hear me? Maybe I don’t want to hear me publicly stutter? Maybe it is easier for me to stutter around people who don’t stutter now? I wish I knew. I do want to go to group next week. I talked with a friend last night who went and he of course wanted to know where I was and why did I miss the group?

I told him I was in a funk and didn’t feel in the right place to “deal with” stuttering. So now I must have a right place, huh? As if life is not complicated enough, now I need to be in a certain place. Maybe I am feeling some shame here, due to the increased stuttering. Maybe the old comfortable avoidance associated with my long-standing covert behavior is kicking back in. Maybe I am secretly anxious about a big talk I am doing next week to school-based SLPs and I want to be in a real good stuttering groove.

Geez!  What is going on? Does anyone else ever get in a funk like this? Where you are just kind of going through the motions? If you have an answer, please let me know!