Make Room For The Stuttering

Monday was the second part of the 6-hour training on bullying prevention in the schools. Today’s session was more difficult, and I thought it would be easier because we knew the participants and had a feel for what they needed. In fact, it seemed their expectations were higher, which was why I felt it was more challenging today.

When we had time to do some small group discussion, it was apparent that many of the schools represented at these two training sessions don’t have solid anti-bullying programs in place. That is scary. Schools are stretched thin right now and budget cuts are on the block everywhere. Yet every educator in the room agreed that bullying is a big concern in the schools,especially the middle schools.

This group was looking for answers, resources and advice on how to implement consistent programming that will help kids who are bullied, those who bully, bystanders who watch and do nothing, and kids who bully who grow up to be adults who bully in the workplace. Big challenges, few resources!

One of the moments that had the most impact at today’s training was when Sarah, a parent, told her story to the group. Sarah works at my school and had told me earlier in the year about challenges she faced several years back when her son was bullied in his freshman year in high school. He was repeatedly taunted and physically abused in gym class and the lockers, with the teacher around, and nothing was done. Her son also did not tell his parents what was going on.

Sarah told her story and took questions. Events that happened six years ago were still fresh on this lady’s mind. She was emotional and choked up several times. She courageously told us what happened and how as a parent she worked for two long years to help implement anti-bullying policies in her district’s K-12 classes. Her school district had been exposed to little or no diversity, and her adopted son was targeted for looking different.

What lessons we learned today. What an inspiration this parent was. We all felt a sense of urgency regarding creating safe school environments when faced with teacher layoffs and having to do so much more with less.

It spoke to how vulnerable we all are, when we expose our differences. One teacher shared how she was bullied at her grade school for being the only African-American student. One teacher shared how frustrated he feels as a parent when he sees the TV shows his pre-teen daughters watch and love. Kids today watch characters that condone teasing and promote social exclusion.

I was reminded how alone I felt growing up as kid who stuttered in school and feeling that no one understood. We were reminded that every day there are kids who feel the same way for different,or maybe similar reasons.

I had been really nervous about doing a training this length. I knew there was no way I could “hope for fluency” or use avoidance or work hard to not stutter. I am glad I decided to be open and honest from the start, which allowed me to stutter freely and communicate comfortably and do my part in adding to such an important dialogue.

I felt really good that I put my fears aside and used part of my personal story to drive home some points about how bullying can no longer be viewed as just as a rite of passage that all kids must endure. We have to help kids feel connected and safe enough that they will come to us when teasing gets out of hand and it becomes bullying.

Someone used this phrase in a conversation last week. I can’t remember who I was talking with or how that came up, but when he mentioned that phrase, I told him I was going to tuck it away for a blog entry. I wrote it down on my blotter at work, secure that I would know when to call it up.

The phrase actually called me up today, saying “Pam, you have to write about killing the monster, now, you just have to!” Funny how things find us! I wish everything was so easy!

I had conversation night before last with gal-pal who stutters and we talked about feeling inadequate and failure, monsters that definitely need killing. And I felt self-conscious when placing a lunch order again at the dreaded drive-through. So yeah, perfect timing for me to see the phrase “Killing the Monster ” on my desk.

Lisa and I had a hugely honest talk about how, after working long and hard on acceptance, we can still feel inadequate sometimes. And we can still feel like we have failed. We know we are not failures and certainly not inadequate, but the vulnerability of stuttering certainly makes us feel that way sometimes. It’s so good to be able to talk openly about it with someone who completely understands that, another woman who stutters.

Stuttering exposes us. (Like the “naked stuttering” another friend has talked about). When we are caught in a stuttering moment and can’t get the word out, or get “the look”, or the” look away”, we still might say, “OMG, it’s not coming out, is it?” And in that split second, we can feel like such a failure. That is a monster that needs to be killed.

Killing the monster is not easy though. We have to deal with it every time it rears itself. That’s really the only way it works. By looking the monster in the eye and not backing down.  Sometimes, we just don’t want to. Sometimes, we want to back away, ignore it, change words or run. Sometimes that is easier. Lisa and I both know that we shouldn’t allow those moments to dictate the nature of our day or make us feel so crappy that it’s all we think about.

When we wake up in the morning thinking about our stuttering and its the last thing we think about before going to sleep, then its time to kill the monsters. We can’t let anything control us like that. And its not just stuttering. It can be our emotions, fear, depression, physical illness, family, our past, our demons. We have to live our lives, and not let part of us become all of us. Easier said than done. Easier done than said, in our case sometimes.

Lisa and I know this. Most of us do, in fact. Intellectually. But sometimes, we just don’t feel it, and we need someone else who gets it to help us kill the monsters. There is safety in numbers when it comes to monster killing. Let’s get ’em!

When we work on ourselves, it’s never easy. No matter what it is that we are working on. We may be trying to be more healthy, to be more open, to be more honest, or move outside our comfort zone in ways we have not done before. We may be working on letting people in or finding the courage to let somebody go. We may be finally admitting something about ourselves that has always been uncomfortable or has scared us.

Whatever it is that we are working on, there is a reason its called work. It’s usually not easy. It requires effort. And in some instances it may hurt. Making changes often requires an “out with the old, in with the new” mentality.

Why am I writing about this today? I have been working on my “self” for a long time now. Within that big category of self is my stuttering, my attitudes  and feelings about different things, and how I feel about myself  overall as a person. Generally, I like me. Not everyday, but most of the time. We all need to like ourselves first in order to like and care for others.

As I peel away my layers, I have learned that I am extremely complex. For a long time, I have kept my guard up, created walls and not always really invited people in . I have learned to do that as a defense mechanism, to protect myself, to keep myself from getting hurt. Sometimes, I use sarcasm and resistance to keep myself at a distance, to avoid even the slightest risk of getting hurt. I know that about myself, and try not to do that, but sometimes it happens anyway.

I have allowed myself to open up and be much more vulnerable over the last year. I ended a long-term relationship, and felt hurt and pain and guilt and relief all at the same time. I have discovered that I trust people way too easily. I get hurt easily. Maybe it’s being naive, but I am finding out that I expect people to be innately good, and am genuinely surprised when they are not, when I wind up getting hurt.

Sometimes when I am trying to protect myself, my barriers actually wind up hurting other people. Someone at work asked me recently if I was aware that I was being very critical of her. I wasn’t aware. I recently made an unintended remark to someone in my self-help group. Someone was hurt. I wasn’t aware of that either, until it was pointed out to me.

What’s going on? Why is this such hard work? Why don’t we learn the first time around? I think it is part of the human condition. Right? We do things that hurt other people when we honestly think we are only protecting ourselves. So how do we deal with this? I think talking about it is a good first step.

This week, I co-presented a 3- hour training to educators on bullying prevention in schools. We will deliver the second 3- hour session next week. Our audience was K-8 teachers, school counselors and social workers, psychologists and several principals.  This was a program that these educators signed up for and chose to attend, and they represented diverse districts served by our BOCES (Board of Cooperative Educational Services).

Everyone talked about what a pervasive problem bullying is in schools, and people were looking for strategies to use to help curb the bullying behavior, but also help the kids being bullied feel less anxious and more empowered to stand up for themselves. We had an ambitious agenda. My building assistant principal and myself originally volunteered to present a two-hour session to our own staff. That evolved into us being asked to develop it into a 6-hour session so the educators could get professional development (CEU) credit for attending.

It became a big deal training, but deservedly so, because bullying is a big deal. Some of the schools indicated they do not have consistent anti-bullying policies in place. Most mentioned they are truly concerned for the well-being of kids being bullied, since the incidences of adolescence depression leading to suicide continues to rise.  A school not far from us is still reeling from the suicides of FIVE students last year. All five girls had been bullied repeatedly before choosing to end the pain in the most final way.

Our session was successful, in that we got people talking and sharing ideas. We ended with a powerful group exercise. We gave everybody two strips of pink paper and asked them to recall a time when they had been picked on or bullied, and asked them to consider forgiving the person. We also asked them to recall a time when they did the teasing or bullying, and consider saying “I’m sorry”. One by one, each adult came up, read their memories and forgave or apologized. It was a powerful moment. It was a hard moment. We created links out of all the pieces of paper and chained them together as one long adult chain against bullying.

People commented how hard this was to do, and we discussed how hard it is for adults to ask kids to apologize or forgive. Participants mentioned that they think it would be a good modeling activity to do with students.

Afterward, one man came up to me and mentioned that he was surprised that I mentioned stuttering, and stuttered openly during my presentation. He said he had stuttered as a kid, a lot some years, a little others. He said it depended on how comfortable he felt with his teachers. He said he still stutters sometimes now as an adult. And he thanked me.

A teacher asked me if it would be OK if she had the counselor at her school contact me about a boy who stutters severely and who is being bullied unmercifully because of it. She wondered if I might be willing to come to their school and do a talk on stuttering.

We never know who we might impact. This talk was not about stuttering, but people asked me questions throughout about stuttering, and I was OK with it. So were they!

I had a great experience speaking to Dr Gregory Snyder’s fluency class Monday night. We hooked up through audio-visual Skype, and it was just like I was in the class with the students. They were in a classroom in Mississippi, I in my office in New York. The students were eager to hear a woman’s perspective on stuttering, and to my surprise, they asked a lot of great, thought-provoking questions.

I started off introducing myself and my early memories of stuttering as a child. I shared the negative reactions I got from my father and kindergarten teacher, which distilled fear and shame very quickly. I learned how to hide my stuttering as a child, to protect myself from being hurt. I grew to become an extremely covert stutterer, who did not come out of the “covert closet” until about 4 years ago.

The SLP students had reviewed my blog and had lots of good questions to ask. One question was how did I manage to fool everyone and be covert for so long. I discussed how I constantly used word substitution and avoidance. I also mentioned that in my family, stuttering was never brought up. It was there, very obvious, but very much the pink elephant. That’s why to me it remained awful and not normal for so very long.

I shared that it was such a big relief years later that my sister mentioned that she had always known I stuttered and had always wanted to talk with me about it. We do now!

The students asked if I thought men and women view stuttering differently. I shared that women tend to be more emotional and expressive, and are OK with talking about feelings and attitudes, whereas men seemed more in tuned with wanting to find fluency. I shared my experiences with attending a predominately male stuttering self-help group, and how I often feel when some men become hyper-critical to a comment or remark I might share.

The students asked if I sometimes get defensive about stuttering. This was meant in a different way than you may think. One student had read my blog entry about meeting my sister’s  friend Max for the first time. Max had made the comment to me that I didn’t really stutter, and I responded that “yes, I really do. Just you wait – you’ll hear it”. My sister thought that sounded defensive, like I didn’t want that taken away from me.

Hmmmmm. That’s interesting, as I have often been asked if I could take a “pill” and suddenly become perfectly fluent, would I? The answer is NO. Stuttering is a part of me, has always been, it makes me the unique me that I am. I wouldn’t recognize me with out it.

Finally, Dr Snyder asked if any of my relationships had changed since coming out of the “covert closet” and embracing my stutter for the first time in my life. I honestly shared that since I had changed dramatically and found acceptance, that many of my relationships had changed. Relationships with some siblings have improved – we can openly talk about something that has always been taboo and scary for me. Relations with new co-workers are very authentic, as I don’t hide my stuttering in the workplace anymore. 

My significant relationship – with a longtime partner – changed as well. Some may say that this was a negative byproduct. We split up after 21 years. In face, this has been nothing but positive for me. I recognized that as I was growing and changing and evolving as a person, he wasn’t interested in coming along for the ride. He did not want me to change, and tried to keep me the same as I had always been with him – quiet, insecure, deferring to him all of the time, willing to not take control.

As I embraced my stuttering, other things fell into place and he wasn’t growing with me. I changed and he did not. So, we decided to move on from each other. That was one of the biggest transitions in my life. And it has been OK. I have landed on my feet. We still talk from time to time, but I have found that I am strong enough, stronger in fact, to live my own life and be comfortable with my own person, just as she is.

I emphasized to the fluency students two of my biggest life lessons: that it is OK to stutter, and that it is not only the person who changes that is effected by change. The people around us also are affected by changes we make.

I was very glad I gave this talk and went outside of my comfort zone to talk with future SLPs about the emotional aspects of stuttering. I was also glad to get really genuine feedback from Dr. Snyder, who by the way, is one of my stuttering peeps in my twitter group. It makes a lot of sense for people who stutter to talk openly with SLP students. We can help them learn lessons that go way beyond the scope of the textbook.

I attended an Interfaith Story Circle event on Sunday called “Sowing Seeds of Peace and Hope”.  The story circle is an inter-generational sharing of stories, music and dance from various religious traditions. Children are mentored and learn to share their beautiful stories, their selves.

It was so moving to see and hear children so confidently share stories of faith, rich in tradition, to a diverse audience of adults. These kids were so poised, at peace,so happy to share their stories with others. People telling stories of peace and hope is an art.

Expressing one’s self – whether it be through the centuries old tradition of story telling, writing, music or dance – is an artistic expression.

It made me so proud to see these kids, and adults, speak without fear. It reminded me of the Friends kids and the Our Time kids. Every one of us has different strengths and abilities. Just because we are blind, or deaf, or stutter, or maybe have physical challenges, we are no less capable of sharing the fabric of our  lives, our stories with each other. Kids who stutter take a little longer to tell their stories and may choose the arts of dance,music or song to say it. As long as we say it, that’s all that counts.

This made me wistful for the stories always inside my head and heart, that I felt could never come out. I always felt no one would have the patience to hear me out. Thats why I took to writing, which is artistic expression for me. I feel like I wasted many years, with my stores bottled up inside. Now I am letting them out, both in writing and from time to time, through the spoken word. And they are gushing out, these stories of me.

Yes, this Story Telling Sunday was a special day. There was no iPhone, no cell phones, no computers. It was just a big diverse group of people from different faiths listening to each other, smiling, laughing and sharing peace and hope. Hope for today and a better tomorrow. How wonderful that different people can come together and celebrate how it is our differences that really bonds us together. How lucky for me I was there.

This one doesn’t have much to do with stuttering, or maybe it has everything to do with stuttering. Depends on how much we let things affect us, right?

Lately, I have had so much on my plate it seems almost impossible to relax and quiet the mind. I like that phrase – “quiet the mind”. We all need to do that from time to time. I need to do it, so my mind, body and soul can just relax sometimes. It’s hard, because we are a multi-tasking world.

Sometimes, at school, I have 3 or 4 students ask me at the same time if I have done that yet for them. They see me in the hall and say, “Miss, have you done that yet?’ Sometimes I just look at them and smile, because they actually expect me to remember what it was I was supposed to do. Sorry, if it’s not written down, I likely will not remember it. That seems to be a by-product of being over-scheduled, with way too much going on. Needing to have everything written down and blocked out.

I am becoming more aware that I often do this with intent. I stay busy, or say yes to things I maybe shouldn’t, because it keeps me busy and blots out feelings that maybe I don’t want to, or am NOT READY, to deal with. It’s part of the human condition – this avoidance of tough stuff. Ah, yes, here’s the connection to stuttering.  I knew there was one. People who stutter often deliberately avoid difficult speaking situations so that we will not expose our stuttering.

Just like people with fears will avoid the feared. And we enter into a vicious cycle of never overcoming what we fear by constantly avoiding it. My wise friend and mentor, J, reminds me all the time that I, we, are the masters of our fate.

The only way I am going to quiet my mind is to do just that. I need to take time for me every once in a while and just do nothing. Even when I feel guilty for doing nothing. Even when I am thinking of the million productive things I could be doing when doing nothing.

But there is my mistake. Taking time for self and doing nothing IS productive. It quiets the mind. It allows me to breathe. It allows me to feel. It allows me to sleep. We need to breathe and feel and be and sleep in order to take care of the others in our lives. Because we need to take care of ourselves first. If we cannot do it for ourselves, then we cannot effectively take care of everyone and everything else.

I am going to make a more deliberate effort to quiet my mind and allow myself some time each day to just be at peace with myself and my thoughts.

What about you? Will you join me?

Someone said this to me in conversation last night over the phone. This person and I were talking for the first time, and it was a little awkward, as it can be when you don’t know someone and you are trying to make a good impression. (I think that is what was going on!)

He kept clearing his throat, and at one point I couldn’t resist chuckling and asking if he was OK. He laughed himself, and made the comment that he was a little nervous and didn’t want to start stuttering or anything.

For a fleeting moment, I winced. I felt maybe I should have said something like, “well, so what if you do. It’s no big deal – I stutter.” But I didn’t say that, or anything at all as a matter of fact. I just let it pass and continued on with our dialogue.

Because that early into talking with someone I was just meeting, I had not shared that I do stutter sometimes. It kind of goes back to a post I made last week, about not always wanting to “make an announcement” at the beginning of every conversation I have with anybody that I stutter.

I figured I would handle that with this person only if I needed to, if I stuttered noticeably enough that he commented on it or something. At that point in our conversation, I was very fluent. I had two or three minor little blips, which I am sure he either didn’t notice or chalked it up to me being a little nervous too. So why bring up stuttering at all? It hadn’t come up at all in my mind until he made that innocent remark.

It was an innocent remark. People say it, never thinking (I am sure) that the person they are talking to actually does stutter and may be really struggling with it. Of course, if you are or have been covert, like me, and can get away with not stuttering for periods of time, it makes it even harder.

So why I am even writing about this? Because it bothered me. Yep, it did. When this person said it, it seemed momentarily like something negative was attached to stuttering. And I work hard to have stuttering not be a negative anymore in my life.

Stuttering has opened doors for me and provided me with opportunities that I would never have had if I didn’t stutter. And I have met truly amazing, inspirational people because of stuttering. And I have recognized  strengths within that I didn’t realize I had. I guess a small part of me wishes that fluent people didn’t use the term stuttering to mean something bad.  As strong as I think I am in terms of acceptance, these little things remind me that I still have tiger (ooops, ti-ger) taming to do!

What do you think? If I felt this way, should I have said something? What have you felt if and when you have heard someone casually mention stuttering in this way?

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?