It’s really weird that my own journey with stuttering continues to fluctuate so much. I have long talked about stuttering, what it was like “coming out” of the covert closet and I regulary talk about stuttering with others.

I’m the Queen of Stuttering at the virtual events I get to host for the NSA. I say “get” because it is truly a privilege to host events where others who stutter, or don’t know much about stuttering, come into a space that I occupy and I can actually teach someone about stuttering.

Most of the time when I go about my daily life and interact with others, I hardly give stuttering a thought.

Until, that is, someone makes me think about it because of how they might have reacted.

This past week or so I have had several medical appointments, and I have two more this week. Lots of interactions with the medical community is part of my life now that I have a serious chronic medical condition.

Usually stuttering doesn’t come up. But it did last Friday and again today. Because two different medical receptionists laughed while I stuttered on my date of birth during the check-in process.

I always stutter on the “T” sound of the number 12. I repeat the “T” quite a few times until it feels like coming out and then for good measure I stutter on the “Th” sound of the next number, 13.

Most of the time it’s a blip on the radar. But this time, two different receptionists, in two different places, found it funny or unusual enough to laugh.

Right away, it made me uncomfortable and forced me to think about stuttering when that should be the last thing from my mind when I am navigating healthcare for something not related to stuttering at all.

I also had to think about, “oh boy, not again. I hate this.” And “should I say something? Should I educate her?” I don’t always feel like educating someone about stuttering when I am focused on other stuff.

But then I have to think about, “well, I don’t want her to laugh again and I want her to understand that stuttering is just the way I talk, and it doesn’t need to be giggled or laughed at.”

And then I think about not wanting to embarrass her/them by saying something within earshot of others.

I said something, both times. Just quickly – “Hey, I stutter and that’s just how my birthdate comes out sounding sometimes.” One apologized right away, the other flushed and turned her head away, while her cube mate gave me a side eye.

Was this really traumatic? In the scheme of things, NO. But in the moment, YES it was. Laughing at how I talk, in front of others, intentionally or not, made me feel embarrassed and small.

20 years ago I didn’t have the courage to say anything when this happened. Now I’ll say something, even though I may not want to. It gets tiring and frustrating.

Repeated episodes of being laughed at because of how we talk can indeed be traumatizing. A quick antidote is to say something, educate and hope it sticks.

Even when I don’t feel like it.

Can you relate?