Make Room For The Stuttering

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!

Oh, the absolute irony. I finally felt awakened in a special way and had a smidgen of happiness, and then, just like that, it was taken  from me. Pouf, just gone, in an instant.

I had no idea how to react, except with much sadness and grieving. I found gentle, tender intimacy for a short time and it was beautiful and special and right. So when it left as quickly as it arrived, I felt hurt and pain and sadness.

My sister told me it was better to have experienced that, and lost it, than to not have experienced it at all. Sounds like a song. Not sure if it is true. Maybe.

Speaking of a song, this reminds me of one by Alanis Morissette called, “You Learn”.  She tells us that we learn through every life experience. We laugh, we learn; we cry, we learn; we hurt, we learn.

I know all that intellectually. It’s just that emotionally it is still hard to deal with pain and loss, no matter how old we are and no matter how accustomed to it we are. I am an old hand at rejection. It’s happened my whole life. I should be hardened to it.

But I am not. I feel deeply and am moved by both good and bad. Probably the result of not giving my self permission to feel for so long, and now the floodgates have been unleashed and I can’t stop the feelings anymore. Just like Alanis says, “I laugh, I hurt, I smile, I cry” and I learn. I learn how crazy vulnerable I am, and how much tender intimacy really means to me.

I am not sure if this has much to do with stuttering. It doesn’t have to. I know I am a totally different person now that I don’t keep the stuttering hidden anymore. I am more open, honest, and willing to take risks. My stuttering is part of the fabric of my life. So are my emotions. Finally. And hurt hurts. I am learning.

Have you ever experienced something like this, so quickly, so suddenly? And you had no idea what to make of it?

Feedback is a gift. Good or bad, we need it from other people. We need to know how other people are thinking or feeling. We need feedback to understand certain situations, to figure out how to do new things or to know if we are on the same page. We need feedback to validate ourselves. We may think we don’t – that we don’t need anybody, that we are a rock, an island – but in fact, we all do at some time.

Some of us have a hard time receiving feedback. I always felt uncomfortable hearing negative feedback, or “constructive criticism” as it is oft called. If I was criticized, I always had a tendency to take it to heart and to think of myself as a bad person or that I had failed in some way. Even minor criticism could bring tears to my eyes. Still does, some times. I tend to be too hard on myself.

I have been much better at receiving and giving feedback over the last several years, as I began to let it in and allow myself to actually feel the emotions that comes with feedback. For not only did I have trouble accepting negative feedback, but I had the same trouble receiving positive feedback. I never thought I deserved praise or compliments. Much of that goes back to my childhood, when I really only got negative feedback and grew up thinking I was bad, flawed, inferior. It takes a long time to break away from internalizing bad stuff. These days, I can and do allow positive feedback in, but very often it still brings me to tears, because it is so new and parts of me still doesn’t quite believe I deserve it.

I gave a speech last night to my Toastmasters club on how to give feedback and quality evaluations. People have a hard time doing this. I asked the audience to come up with some of the reasons why people struggle with offering feedback. We sometimes feel unqualified, we might be afraid of hurting the speaker’s feelings, or we worry that being honest will not be encouraging for the speaker. When I first joined Toastmasters, I never would have guessed that some three years later I would feel comfortable enough to share some advice on how to offer feedback.

Everybody thought I did a good job. I got a good evaluation from a veteran Toastmaster. He did remind me that I shouldn’t have concluded by saying “thanks”. The audience should have thanked me. I know that – I have shared that with other people. I felt good after hearing positive feedback.

The person who served as grammarian reported that there were a few filler words during the evening, and that some of us repeated some words. He specifically commented that I had repeated several words – “Toastmaster, Toastmaster”, “feedback, feedback”, “language, language”, “chose, chose”.

Guess what I immediately thought as I heard this? Did I stutter on those words? He doesn’t know I stutter. He is a second-time visitor from another club. Did I really do whole word repetitions like that? Was it obvious enough that he felt he needed to take note of it like he did? Amazingly, I let his 15-second report make me second guess how good I had felt about nailing my speech and sharing something valuable with the group.

I even found myself wondering as I left: “Hmmmm, I wonder if any of the regulars in my club will go up to him and let him know I stutter? I think its possible someone might have felt obliged to do that. I hoped no one did. I don’t want to be “judged” any differently than any other person taking a risk and giving a Toastmaster’s speech. I want to be able to take feedback in the spirit it is meant. To help us be aware of things we may want to work on or improve or just be aware of.

What do you think about feedback? How do you receive it? Do you think it was OK for me to ponder what he said the way I did? Or am I just way too sensitive to my stuttering?

It has happened all week. Every time I have answered the front desk phones, I have stuttered on the word “help”. Every time. It is usually an easy, relaxed double or triple repetition of the “h”. No other word, just that one. And I knew I would stutter on it each time.

It hasn’t bothered me too much, because no one on the other end of the phone has reacted in any way. It has just been a little blip. But what has bothered me has been when anyone from the office has heard me stutter or someone walked by when I was on the phone and waved or something, at the exact minute I stuttered. That made me feel self-conscious. I am not sure why – it just has.

I found myself actually trying to use a speech target a couple of times. Can you believe it? I was feeling so self-conscious about it that I intentionally tried to slow down before saying “help” or gently trying to slide into the “h”. Nope – didn’t work! All week it has been “h-h-help”.

I just answered the phone now and did the usual, “May I h-help you?” I found myself rolling my eyes at myself. And I surprised myself doing that. Why has it bothered me all week? Who cares? I shouldn’t. But I do.

It is part of human nature to be aware of doing something we wish we didn’t, whether we have control over it or not. Most of the time, I am pretty OK with my stuttering, but I did find myself wishing that I didn’t answer the phone like this EVERY time this week. I did briefly think of changing what I should say, to drop the dreaded “h” sound, but quickly decided against that.

I am not going to do that. Then I wouldn’t be saying what I want or need to say. And thats what it is all about, right?

What do you think? Do you still find yourself feeling self-conscious sometimes, foolishly? What kind of conversation do you have with your self when this happens? Please share your thoughts.

I started writing this post a while ago. It may have been while watching “Dancing With The Stars”. I heard this phrase somewhere or made some connection with the differences in dance styles. My life was starting to feel too much like a tango for a while – tense, terse, tight. Everything. My schedule, my reactions, my speech, my relationship, just everything. I didn’t realize for a long time that I simply wanted to waltz – slowly, smoothly, simply, and enjoy the music and the dance at the same time.

I never learned to dance. I always feel awkward at a wedding or a party. I don’t dance, for fear of looking silly or vulnerable. But I know now that I have really wanted to dance gracefully through my life, and I think I am finally doing it.

My life changed completely when I let my stuttering out and began to openly acknowledge and accept. I just didn’t realize it right away. That was the window opening, and now the door has opened as well. I am finally doing things I want to do, and not feeling guilty. I am getting pleasure out of simple things, and realizing how nice that really is.

I didn’t even realize I was doing the tango all the time. Now that I am waltzing, I can feel the difference. I feel free and relaxed. Happier. I still don’t know exactly what I want, but I sure am enjoying figuring things out.

Waltzing is far easier on the feet and soul and heart. I don’t have to waltz perfectly, I can just sort of sway to life’s  music and enjoy it. Waltz or tango? I think it has a lot to do with acceptance. The more I accept my self for who I am, the more I am willing to take chances.

Yeah, I like waltzing. It seems much more peaceful.

Speaking of peace, my dove of peace looks really good now. All healed. Kind of a signal. That I am finally finding peace. And as a reminder it sits on my shoulder.

Which would you rather do? Waltz or tango? Both forms of dance have their benefits, and maybe a place in our lives. Right? I just happen to want to waltz at this time in my life.

My friend Loretta gave a heartfelt, inspiring speech at our Toastmaster’s club meeting last Tuesday. It was her milestone 10th speech, earning her CC (Competent Communicator) designation. I remember when Loretta first joined our club about a year ago. We hit it off right away.

She shared being terrified of public speaking, despite having a very visible job in Human Resources.  When she gave her first ice breaker speech, I felt for her, as her anxiety reminded me of how I felt when I gave my first speech.

I remember feeling scared, inadequate, vulnerable and embarrassed. My first speech was the first time I would acknowledge my stuttering to a group, and I was choosing a group of strangers at Toastmasters. But doing it gave me the courage and confidence to keep going, and continue talking.

Loretta had asked me almost immediately if I would mentor her. I felt so honored that she thought enough of me to want me to help her through the first couple months of  Toastmasters and help her prepare for the first 3 speeches. To myself, I thought, “oh wow, I might not be good enough. Does she really want someone who stutters to be her mentor? Will I do a good enough job?”

I used to have self-defeating nergative self-talk with myself all the time. Thankfully, I don’t do that much any more!

Back to her speech! Loretta challenged everyone to look at their lives, and see if we are really living the life we want  to live. If we are not, then we need to ask ourselves why. What is standing in the way? What is limiting us from being who we want to be?

All of us hung on every word as Loretta spoke. She chose the right words, emphasized with tone at the right times, and really had us thinking. She offered several tips for what we could do if we realize that we are “settling”. Things like unbundling, recognizing excuses, and fear of failure.

Have you ever settled? Have you ever thought that you don’t deserve more or better, so what you have is good enough?

All of us have a right to  live the life we want to lead. It is up to us to honestly look at what we want and what stands in the way. Her four simple words in her title resounded throughout her talk – “If Not Now, When?”

Settling! Sometimes we don’t pursue our dream job, for fear that we are not good enough, or if we stutter, no one would want us. Sometimes we fear pursuing the relationship we want, being afraid to tell a person how we really feel, or again, because of some imperfection, we may not be wanted. Fear of rejection often has us settling for far less than we really want.

Loretta’s question was really asking: “What are we waiting for?” We can’t let life pass us by. I have been doing that. I don’t want to anymore. What about you?

Life is full of expectations. We expect something from everyone, from every situation we enter into, and we often have very high expectations of ourselves. 

At Christmas time, children expect that Santa will know where they live to leave the coveted toys they had wanted under the tree. As they eagerly unwrap the present, their anticipation is palpable. You can see their excitement as they impatiently tear open the package and dive in. The belief in Santa Claus remains affirmed for at least one more year. But if the package holds something not anticipated, the expectant glow can quickly turn to disappointment.

Yes, expectations can lead to disappointment. And disappointment does not feel good. In fact, it hurts. Hard to swallow. We have all been disappointed. Some examples in my life: being passed over for a job that I felt I should have had; not being with the one person who I truly loved; my parents weren’t like “The Brady Bunch” parents – they let me down a lot.

I have also been disappointed time and again with my speech. I expect to be able to maintain my managed fluency and it sometimes doesn’t happen. Then I feel let down. I let myself down, I couldn’t keep up. I feel disappointed when I get puzzled looks or nervous laughter from listeners, and then I feel I let them down, by not being honest. By trying to pull off something.

That’s the thing with expectations. We need expectations to have something to look forward to, to be excited about, to have hope. But inevitably, something doesn’t work out and we feel disappointment.

I have been in a mind-set lately that I should not try so hard to over-analyze things and raise my expectations too high, to ward off that disappointment and hurt. I tend to over-anaylyze, so letting that go a bit is a good thing. I would rather just go with how something feels and see how it may unfold and just try to be. 

But I shouldn’t try to lower my expectations, just to avoid hurt, right?  Because then I miss out on that giddy, exciting feeling of anticipation. Like with exploring a new relationship – why shouldn’t I think, “hmmmm, maybe this is the one?” Because maybe it is.

If we automatically think that our expectations will lead to hurt and disappointment, then they will, right? Like the self-fulfilling prophesy.

I should expect that I will be ok with my stuttered speech every day. I should expect to find happiness if I allow myself to feel and be. I should expect that good things can and will happen for good people. I should expect that life will have its ups and downs, and that I will survive the bumps in the road. That I can bounce back and won’t fall apart. Having expectations means taking a certain amount of risk!

How have you handled disappointments in your life? What helps you through it?

Well, I am not sure how I felt about this one. In my mind, making room for the stuttering means that I am supposed to be able to take both the good and the bad. Take it in stride. Listen, let it in, see what it can teach me.

One of my office mates, Pat, casually mentioned a comment that a friend had shared with her. Her friend had called Pat at the office and while chatting asked if we had a new receptionist. Pat said she explained no, there wasn’t a new receptionist. That I (me!) was helping out by answering the phones. Pat’s friend asked her if I was OK, as I had “sounded flustered” when I answered her call. Pat said she explained to her friend that I was just new to answering the phones and that I was doing fine.

I remember Friday afternoon was very busy, but I actually felt more at ease handling the phones as I had done it for most of the week. I was pretty sure that I had stuttered while answering her call.  As Pat told me this, rather out of the blue, I remember thinking, “what did Pat think” when her friend said I sounded flustered. Did Pat tell her friend that I stutter, and that was probably what she heard? Or did she not mention it because she was embarrassed? Or did the friend mention it and Pat didn’t want to tell me?

I found myself thinking about this much more than I probably should have. Obviously, since I am also writing about it. Is that how stuttering on the phone sounds? Like I am flustered? Why didn’t she tell me Friday? Why did she tell me at all?

Aye aye . . . . every time I think I am close to figuring it out, something reminds me that I still need to make room for it, all of it.

Have you ever had someone make a comment like this? Do you agree with my assessment that I read way too much into this? Why do I still keep doing this? Do you know?

A school is a very busy place to work. Our main office is often like grand central station sometimes – students in and out, phones and bells ringing all the time and lots of multi-tasking. Our front desk receptionist retired before Christmas, and the two office staff, who essentially keep the school running, have been overwhelmed. The phones are constant, as well as students arriving late all day, who must be signed in and issued a pass to enter the classroom late.

I offered to help out because my schedule is slow until next week. Before I could re-think it, I found myself at the front desk, answering all the lines, routing them to the right offices and dealing with student traffic.

It’s really not that big of a deal, because I am very patient and don’t get too flustered easily. Except, I really hate using the phone so much. I used to avoid the phone as much as possible and this week I have been answering the phones all day and fielding questions from parents, prospective students, bus garages and school districts. In over-analyzing the situation, which I tend to do, I noticed something quite profound: sometimes I stuttered and sometimes I didn’t.

When it comes right down to it, that’s the story with my stuttering. Sometimes I stutter and sometimes I don’t. I don’t think much about my stuttering when I don’t stutter a lot. But when I am stuttering quite a bit, I think about it more. I guess that’s the same with most things. I don’t much think about pimples until I get one! I don’t really think about my hair until I am having a bad hair day. And I hardly ever think about socks until I glance down and realize that, once again, I have two different colored ones on.

I have actually done fine on the phones this week. The stuttering I did was relaxed and easy, and I found myself sliding into the “R” word that I sometimes have trouble with, as that is how I have to answer the phone every time – “R . . . .  Ed Center, how may I help you?” Once I slid out the “r”, I had only a few minor repetitions.

I got to see most of the staff everyday and a lot more students than I usually see, as quite a few come late and need late passes issued. And I got to put up with a lot of goodhearted teasing from a lot of staff who thought it was great that I was working the front reception desk. I think they feel I am more approachable that the other woman was. I talk to everybody, I mean everybody.

Aside from the phones, I had one other scenario worth mentioning. As visitors come in and out, they sign in with me, take a visitors badge, and sign out and return the badge to me upon leaving. I found myself making small talk with just about everyone. One person was leaving, and said good-bye. I yelled, “Take Care”, but it came out “T-t-t-t-t-t-take”. The other person looked puzzled, but waited my stutter out before turning to leave. It was OK.

Yes, this week, I came way out of my comfort zone and it felt OK.  Kind of makes me think that I might even be able to use the Public Address system if I need to at some point to make an announcement, instead of asking someone else to do it.Maybe before the end of the school year. I know! I’ll set that as a goal.

Do you take opportunities to push yourself outside of your own comfort zones? How does it feel? Do you feel good when you are able to do one of the things you always used to dread?