Make Room For The Stuttering

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As I wrote in my last post, I have been reflecting so much more recently on my stuttering journey. Maybe it’s because somehow I feel I have not been as helpful to others as I once was. I have not been as active in the community as I once was. I have had other BIG issues this year that have taken up more headspace. I have not been thinking as much about stuttering as I used too.

But, I have allowed myself to jump into spaces where there are other people who stutter. I am still really involved with the NSA and I help create some great virtual events. I try to attend them every chance I get. And as I used to be a host for Stutter Social, I have been trying to jump in on those conversations once in a while.

Something that was recently discussed at one of those stutter social hangouts was the idea of how people who stutter feel when they get caught in a long block, trying to say something and nothing comes out. I don’t experience intense blocks where my mouth hangs open when I am waiting for my word or sound to come out, but I definitely do experience blocks.

I know of a lot of people who do experience much more intense blocks, who have told me they absolutely hate it when they are in mid thought or mid sentence and then wham, they stop and are stuck. They describe the “stuckness” as mouth wide open, gaping, utter silence. They describe their listeners as impatient shrews, who can’t or won’t wait, who just walk away while the person stuck in the block just stands there, embarrassed once again that they couldn’t get a word out fast enough before someone walked away.

What came to mind when thinking about this recently was that we who stutter have choices. We can choose to stutter well. That sounds ridiculous, right? But it’s not. I have stuttered for more than 50 years so I am very good at it, in fact I am an expert at my stuttering. Of course I stutter well, it’s what I do. When we choose to adopt the mindset of stuttering well, we can choose to not let other people dictate how we feel about stuttering. If someone else doesn’t like my stuttering, fine. So be it. There’s nothing I can do about that. Because I stutter and I stutter very well.

I also struggle well. I didn’t always used to think that. If I got caught up in a huge stuttering moment, with a long block or many repetitions, I would do my best to duck my head, pretend to cough, and get out of the situation as quick as possible. Many times, I’d find myself going out to my car and crying.

But not anymore. Struggling is part of life. It’s part of stuttering. When I struggle, I don’t run away from it anymore, I run towards it. Struggling well helps me figure out what to do best in a situation that will leave me feeling intact and whole and equipped to handle the next challenge.

Stutter Well. Struggle Well. Sometimes that’s all we can do.

“When I am silent, I have thunder hidden inside.” ~ Rumi

This quote really resonates with me about stuttering. Sometimes I don’t say things because I worry the words won’t come out the way I intended. 

I have always found it curious that stuttering can create such intimacy in conversation, if we allow ourselves to stutter openly and naturally. 

Stuttering is not just what we hear. It’s also about what we don’t hear.

When we block, with no audible sound or word coming out, something is still being said. There is a connection, as we, myself and my listener, wait for my words, if the listener chooses to wait.

We should choose people who choose us. That is how intimate and meaningful conversations happen – when we choose and make time and space to listen deeply, regardless of how we sound or how long it may take.

I have spent a lot of time recently reflecting upon and sharing my stuttering journey and how I’ve arrived at the very good place I find myself today.

It has not been an easy path – it’s been filled with trauma, challenge and often a great sense of helplessness. I have always been somewhat of a perfectionist and I’ve tried to control the things in life that I could as stuttering is one of those things that I could not. 

I don’t think I am a better listener because I stutter. Rather, I listen more deeply to stuttered speech and that includes stuttering that has no sound.

So much is said and shared in silence and we who stutter GET the opportunity to learn from silence and be patient and curious. How wonderful that is, to get opportunities like this.

Too often in our fast paced world, people rush to fill any moment of silence (however brief) because those moments can be uncomfortable and awkward. But allowing silence and giving space to reflect and process is the beauty of communication. There are challenges and opportunities. We can choose to stutter well. We can choose to struggle well. 

When people who stutter feel safe with each other to wait with curiosity and process what has been said or not said, that is a beautiful and intimate connection.

When I am silent, there’s a lot of thunder inside, often bursting to come out. But at this very good point in my journey, I am comfortable with silence and the very deep connections that shared silence can foster.

I’m preparing for a workshop at a NSA One Day Conference next weekend on change and wanted to reflect here for a moment on how profound change can be for others in our lives when we change.

I’m experiencing that first hand with family. I’ve shared before that I was raised in an abusive, chaotic household as the oldest child of six. We experienced change and drama almost every day. 

Now, later in life, I have finally learned to set boundaries I am comfortable with and it means that I intentionally choose not to spend time with family members who are stuck in old habits and get mad over silly things and point fingers and like to play the blame game.

I don’t have time for that anymore in my life. I’ve changed, simply by realizing that I can freely choose who I want to surround myself and spend time with. It’s so much healthier than lying and making excuses why I don’t want to go to this family gathering or that. My siblings try to get together once a year, and it feels forced, awkward and uncomfortable. So, I’ve declined the last two, and I am really happy with myself for doing that. 

I’ve changed and therefore so has things around me, for the better. We can’t choose the family we were born into, but we can choose the family we wish to spend time with.

 

I recently had the great pleasure of attending the Canadian Stuttering Association annual conference for the first time last week. The conference was held in Montreal, Quebec and was less than a four hour drive for a friend and I so that clinched our decision to attend.

It was a joint conference with the ABC (Association begaiment communication) which is the French speaking arm of the Canadian stuttering associations. It meant that there were workshops in both English and French, which was richly inclusive to all.

I loved the conference. There was a total of 150 people, which opened the door to get to know people better than in situations where there are large groups of people.

The Workshops were fantastic, something for everyone, and anytime we were together as a group, announcements were made both in English and French.

I did a workshop on recovering from the shame many of us deal with stuttering, which turned into a great discussion about what if you’ve never been able to let go of shame. What if shame consumes your every moment?

My friend Nicole did a workshop on stuttering and grief, which gave people a different perspective to look at stuttering. She encouraged us to look at how we felt about perhaps having given up some of our dreams when we realized that stuttering made us better at some things than others.

I met a lot of first time attendees and thought what a great experience to step into the stuttering community in a smaller setting. Many first timers came up and spoke at the final open mic session.

The CSA’s motto is “Our Voices Matter” and I came away from the conference experience definitely feeling like that. Plus, it didn’t hurt that I saw friends that I hadn’t seen in quite a few years.

This was my first international conference and I am so glad I went.

The-Power-of-Listening-1

Each year, a small group of people undertake the task of keeping an online conference together for the entire month of October. Judy Kuster started the first online ISAD conference in 1998 and kept it running through 2012. From 2013 onward, different people devote their time to keep the conference alive and vibrant.

This year’s theme is something we haven’t tackled yet – listening. Listening is 90% of effective communication, yet for many people who stutter, we’ve been poor listeners.  We’ve often spent too much head space thinking of what words we could say without stuttering and then we’d lose the gist of the conversation. Has that ever happened to you?

Check out the contributions to this years conference and see what many people think about listening.

I recently had a couple of conversations where the word impediment came up. I find that people who stutter often describe their stutter with words that denote something negative. Like impediment, problem, disorder, or even defect. I honestly don’t remember using any of those words when referring to my stuttering. When I talked about it, I always called my stuttering “stuttering,” never speech impediment. I don’t remember anyone around me specifically saying I had a speech impediment.

To me, these above words are negative. They imply there is something wrong with us. Don’t get me wrong, I definitely have felt there was something different about the way I talked. I was often embarrassed if someone called attention to my stuttering, or if I did so myself by stuttering more than I usually did/do.

But the word impediment has always bothered me. I have never felt impeded in communicating. I have always been able to talk and get my point across, albeit differently than non-stutterers. I could ask for something, answer a question, and on the rare occasion, even poke light fun at myself. (I am able to do that much more today than I was when I was desperately covert. Even when hiding though, I could still convey my thoughts.)

I think about what impedes us regarding stuttering. I think the fear of judgement, of being laughed at, or not taken seriously can impede people who stutter (heck, anybody really) from engaging with the world around us.

I can answer the phone, chat with friends and family, place an order and talk to staff at medical appointments. I am not impeded from communicating. I get what I need and want. It’s not always smooth sailing, and I know that people who struggle more with stuttering than I do may disagree about whether we have an impediment or not

I hope we reach the point some day where how we talk is not seen as a problem, a defect or an impediment. It’s a difference, it’s how I talk and it’s OK. Really!

I recently returned from another life changing NSA conference. This experience was especially poignant for me as I had not planned to go due to all of the challenges I am up against. I describe myself these days as being “medically and financially precarious.” My community helped me get there and I am grateful.

I always learn so much about myself when I am with my tribe and can take in all of the warmth and richness of the stuttering community. This year I learned that I am definitely becoming more introverted than ever. I’ve always leaned towards being an introvert, due to both being a stutterer and living a relatively isolated life for so long.

I love being with my stuttering community, but I found this year that I needed more alone time and that I was anxious in common areas with big crowds. I don’t recall this being as acute as it seemed to be this year. Several times, I found myself at a table full of friends over dinner with no desire to say anything.

I recall a friend sitting across from me asking more than once if I was OK and what was I thinking about. He tried to draw me into conversation. I think I sent off signals that I wasn’t having it! I guess it may have appeared I was lost in thought or daydreaming. I think it was actually being acutely aware of how uncomfortable I felt, and not understanding why.

Like I said, I love being with my community and giving as much of myself as I can. But I found I needed lots of “breaks.” Alone time, non-talking time, thinking and reflecting time. I went to my room early on several nights and then criticized myself for doing that.

Maybe it’s a product of aging. Maybe it’s a product of stuttering. Maybe it’s just a preference for quiet. In a couple of places, the music was so loud, people were shouting to be heard. I don’t enjoy that anymore. I actually don’t know if I ever did.

Has anyone else discovered a new desire for more alone time? Does it get in the way of doing all that you want to do?

Every year, National Stuttering Awareness Week is celebrated in the US during the second week of May. Stuttering advocates encourage people who stutter to stutter openly during this week, or advertise that they stutter in an effort to educate others and raise awareness of a still very misunderstood speech difference.

This year, the National Stuttering Association has chosen the theme of “Stuttering Unmasked” in the hopes that people who don’t stutter will better understand what’s behind stuttering and the masks that we who stutter often wear.

Stuttering is so complex. There are so many myths and false assumptions that could be reduced if people who stutter spoke up more and let people see and hear raw, unmasked stuttering.

But there lies the conundrum. Many people who stutter feel so much shame about stuttering that it’s easier to keep the masks on. The “fake fluency” mask, the “shy, introvert” mask, or the “I don’t know the answer” mask.

Stuttering continues to be a difference that people often mock or laugh at, or about, because people just don’t understand it.

I am hoping that people who stutter will feel brave enough during National Stuttering Awareness Week, and hopefully more often, to be open about stuttering. Talking about stuttering lets others see that we are OK with it, and often prompts questions and discussion that promotes better understanding.

I plan to be open about my own stuttering. What about you?

I’ve read many people post on public forums, especially Reddit, how much more difficult stuttering becomes for them around holidays. Some say it’s because of the tension that arises from being around family members we rarely see during the year.

Some people who stutter feel strangely vulnerable around their parents, who were the first authority figures in our lives. We may feel that we disappointed them then, and nothing has changed, so we think we’ll just disappoint again. We often find ourselves trying to adapt to different family dynamics each year. Maybe there are new members of the family or we are adapting to a loss. Sometimes, we see extended family members we have not seen for years. And it may feel like all eyes are upon us when we speak, and if we stutter, the room can go silent, so the only sound you hear is the prolonged or lingering stutter.

I always felt uncomfortable and embarrassed in family gatherings. I chalk it up to having had a very chaotic and traumatic childhood. But, really, I found it hard being the oldest child of six. At the dinner table, everyone would be chattering at once and we’d have to compete to be heard. I was literally trying to be heard, which created tension, that I internalized.

That tension has always stayed with me. Of the few family gatherings I attend these days, I tend to stay quiet and only pipe in when I feel I have something important to say. But usually I don’t. Because gatherings are often shallow, with people sharing about mundane everyday stuff that none of us can really relate to because we only get together once a year.

This year, I have noticed that I stutter much more when on the phone, especially with my closest sister. I can feel and hear myself stuttering, her waiting, and then me trying to be less aware of stuttering, but stuttering more.

After so many years of stuttering and holidays, it’s the same complexities that keeps the mind busy.

Wishing you good stuttering and happy days.

Last week I had the wonderful opportunity to attend one of the oft held masterclass sessions sponsored by Schneider Speech and Transcending Stuttering. I was eager to attend this session as the speaker was a friend and researcher extraordinaire, Chris Constantino. He was sharing a session on Neurodiversity and Stuttering and the applications to therapy.

I knew this would be a wonderful session because I have heard and read Chris’s work on covert stuttering, inclusion and previous works on neurodiversity. I contacted the session coordinator and asked if I could attend, despite its primary focus on therapy applications. He welcomed me in.

I knew immediately I made the right decision. I was the only non-SLP participant in the group, but that was actually very helpful. I was able to understand how therapists today are working towards steering clients to examine the values behind differences vs impediments and that “fixing” is not always the best route. I shared some of my thoughts as well, as a person who stutters who has successfully enjoyed, (and still does) the journey towards acceptance of a life well lived with stuttering.

I was happy to be a fly on this wall!

“A turtle only makes progress when it sticks its neck out.”

I love this quote. How do we define progress? Progress in school (think report cards,) progress at work (performance evaluations, or getting a raise,) or just doing something really uncomfortable. Maybe public speaking, performing improv, or giving a toast at a wedding.

All of those things can be challenging for people who stutter. I was always afraid to volunteer at school or work, afraid they would think I wasn’t competent or laugh. I unconsciously thought those things would happen, so I learned to hide my stutter as deeply as possible, without looking like a recluse.

Do you ever look at stuttering as something with which we can make progress? I mean like stuttering more openly, more comfortably, or even taking part in therapy to lessen our stuttering or struggle behavior.

I had such a long experience with covert (hiding) stuttering. I was swimming in shame and the belief that no one would want to hear my voice, or even that I was unworthy of talking, as it was different than “normal” speech.

Progress for me was just letting go and confronting my shame, which took a long time. I began to open up more, took speaking risks I never would have dreamed of, and most importantly, I met other people who stutter, especially other women. Through the community of the National Stuttering Association which offers one day and 4 day conferences, chapter support meetings, and online webinars and groups, I found out that progress means something different for everyone.

Discover what it is you want to do, and go after it, as slowly or quickly that YOU want to. It’s not a race, it’s a journey.

Progress – “A turtle only makes progress when it sticks its neck out.”

I haven’t written in a while as I’ve been grappling with big issues. Anxiety and depression, talking less often to people, feeling isolated, fun stuff like that.

But my mind keeps wandering to relevance. I worry that I am not relevant to, well, anyone. I don’t work, and I don’t have regular social interaction, unless you count the “thank you” at the grocery store. I felt relevant and productive when I worked, both with colleagues and clients.

So I’ve been stewing over why I don’t feel relevant. And have been thinking a lot of about with who do we need to be relevant to, in order to feel relevant. Is it engagement with others that makes me/us feel relevant, is it doing something for someone else, or is it just about being relevant to myself?

It’s so easy to let negative self-talk and self loathing consume our thoughts, as I did for so long because of stuttering. I felt like I didn’t measure up, or ever could, to others who did not stutter. Avoidance became a self preserving habit, one that spilled over into other areas of my life. I intentionally chose not to interact with potential friends or many co-workers out of shame and fear of being seen in a negative light. That used to eat me up.

Then I found the stuttering community and dove in and realized instantly that helping others helped me. In little ways: encouraging others, sharing my stories, celebrating triumphs with others who may not even realize what they just did or said was a triumph.

I felt relevant in that world. I took on volunteer opportunities, led groups, presented workshops and generally felt good. I felt I was making a difference. I felt relevant.

But it seems now that everything has changed. I’ve had major life changes that have been difficult. I stepped down from the NSA Board of Directors because I thought my messy life would adversely affect my ability to help others and be a leader. I also worried that financially I could not contribute and of course afford to pay my way to conferences. At times, I feel extremely irrelevant in the stuttering community, which is funny, because it was deep involvement that helped me so much and made me see, really see, that I could help others.

I guess it’s most important to feel relevant to yourself. Find ways to be relevant. I’ve been trying to do that, from afar, on Zoom, like most of us have become so used to. I try to talk to people as often as I can, but honestly, that’s an effort, just like getting out of bed on some days.

But that’s OK. Being messy and unsure is what makes us human. I remind myself of that often. Helping others to realize that being messy, including not taking a shower every day or hardly making the bed, is relevant because I know others can relate to that. We all are messy. And being able to be comfortable with that helps me realize that relevance is a matter of perspective.

Today is the last day of another year. It was a tough year for me, as it was for everyone. I haven’t worked in two and a half years now, and it’s wearing on me. I haven’t done all the things I could’ve and wanted to do this year.

I didn’t get as involved with the stuttering community, which has been my lifeline for so many years. Especially since I’ve not been working – writing about stuttering and talking with others who stutter had sustained me, and truth be told, kept me sane. Writing, thinking and engaging becomes vital when you don’t have the structure and identity of paid work. It kept me sharp and feeling productive.

Until someone criticized me for it. It was implied that if I could write and use a computer, then I could work, should work.

So I cut way back and basically only wrote or talked with someone for my podcast about once a month, even though it was killing me to step back from something I love. Helping others has always been the way to help myself. I’ve written this blog and worked full-time for years. Now, I feel as though I’ve robbed myself. I’m practically doing nothing to keep myself well. Losing my outlet has heightened my depression. That might happen to anyone who involuntarily stopped working and then curtailed a passion as well.

I can’t do that anymore. I have to decide what’s best for me. And that is being engaged with my world.

So I hope to reset in 2022. I’m going to try and do more things that bring me joy, despite this not being such a joyful time. I can either sink deep into that rabbit hole or I can do stuff that will keep me out of there. Rabbit holes don’t smell all that great!

I’m excited that I’m going to help someone get a monthly women’s connect group up and running for women who stutter. It will hopefully kindle some of that fire and passion that I’ve seriously lacked for over a year.

Here’s to a new year of hope and helping others, which always helps me.


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