Make Room For The Stuttering

“Fried ice cream is an oxymoron. I just can’t visualize it. It doesn’t make sense.”  These were the words of a fellow stutterer as I  convinced him to split an order of fried ice cream for desert after sharing great food, great company and the best stuttering. He was skeptical, because he’s not crazy about sweets and just couldn’t imagine what fried ice cream would look like. He could not wrap his brain around the notion of two completely different things coming together and tasting good.

James and I went out for a nice Thai dinner and good Belgian beer. He had wanted to “pick my brain” about stuttering, which was great, because I love to talk about stuttering.  And talk we did. And stutter we did. About lots of things.

First up was schizophrenia! James talked about how stuttering sometimes feels like two personalities, the fluent one who goes along comfortably for a while, and then the stuttering one who sometimes come out of nowhere. We both shared our experiences with how covert stuttering is very much like two distinct personalities. You never know which one shows up.

We both wanted to try food we had never tried before, to really enjoy the experience. Kind of like stuttering, we both enjoyed each others different stuttering. Our waiter was awesome,and recommend things for us to try and gave us plenty of time to talk and order at our own pace. We were so engaged talking that several times the waiter came and went, not wanting to disturb us.

We started with calamari. It was not what we expected – just like stuttering sometimes. We thought the calamari would be fried and crispy, but it was served cold and raw. Very different taste sensation. But we were game.

Interesting conversation. James mentioned something early on that resonated with me. He said he wanted to keep up with me in conversation. When I asked what he meant, he said that being with me, a stutterer, he felt he needed to stutter with me, so he curbed his natural inclination to substitute words and stuttered with me. He said its lonely if you are the only one stuttering. That was so cool! We also talked about eye contact -he mentioned that he thinks its great that I don’t break eye contact when I stutter, and that he notices that he does when he stutters. We talked about that. He gets embarrassed. I shared that sometimes I do too, it’s human and situational. Sometimes I break eye contact when stuttering at work and I shared that sometimes I squeeze one eye shut in an effort to push the stuck word out.

James leans in when he blocks. That is his tension. I told him he looks engaged when he leans in! Like he is so interested in what the other is saying that he leans in to hang on every word. I don’t think he bought it! James has silent blocks, and he told me how frustrating that sometimes feels. I don’t think I have ever really experienced a silent block. We talked about the different ways we stutter.  It was liberating.  So was the Belgian beer!

James asked me if I notice that I get more dis-fluent when with someone else who talks really fast. Yeah, I do, and he does too. We talked about slowing down, and both agreed that we talk and think so fast that it is very hard to slow down.

Over delicious tapioca and yam tum soup,  we talked about how the stuttering world has opened up for us both through the Internet, talking with others who stutter and doing advertising. We also talked about family histories of stuttering and family’s reactions.

Over the main course and the second bottle of Belgian beer, we talked about stuttering advocacy and ways to feel comfortable in your own skin. “I Do Me” is the first thing that came out of my mouth, and James agreed. He wants to feel as comfortable in one stuttering situation as he is in other stuttering situations. He stutters most on the phone and in groups. We both agreed that stuttering is so situational, that’s what a lot of people don’t get.

When it came time to consider desert, our wonderful waiter gave us recommendations and I convinced James to try the fried ice cream. When it came, he was amazed at how good it was and how two exact opposites so perfectly complemented each other. It was a perfect combination. The fried crunchy part on the outside, the soft and sweet ice cream on the inside. Just like stuttering.

We are complex. What you see (and hear) on the outside is quite often the opposite of what’s on the inside. Sometimes we stutterers keep a lot bottled up inside. But not on this night. Put two people who stutter together to talk and share for hours and stuttering magic happens. Just like fried ice cream.

Have any of you ever had fried ice cream? Can you see how its like stuttering? Warm and cool, crispy and soft, covert and overt all at the same time.  And have any of you ever had such a good time stuttering that you couldn’t believe how fast the time flew?

I’m telling you – there’s nothing like it.

I recently found myself defending the fact that I stutter. Honest!

It is a fact.  I was evaluated and diagnosed  as having a stutter,  I hear myself stutter, and other people identify my speech pattern as stuttering. Sometimes, though,someone with a more pronounced overt stutter gets a little ruffled and thinks mine is so mild in comparison that I shouldn’t identify myself as a stutterer.

I actually found myself getting defensive. I felt the need to convince him that I really do stutter. It brings me back to the time a couple of year ago when someone questioned why I was at a self help meeting for stuttering, because I obviously didn’t stutter. At the time, that person had made me feel as if I had crashed a party I wasn’t invited to.

That feeling of being caught between both worlds (fluent and stuttering) is very uncomfortable. I don’t stutter enough to “belong” with the severe overts who block a lot, and I stutter and repeat too much to pass myself off as fluent. I used to be able to do that when I just flat out avoided speaking situations.

So this guy who stutters doesn’t consider me to be a stutterer and takes offense when I identify as a stutterer because mine is not as “nasty sounding” as his.  Maybe he thinks I am a fraud. Maybe I am really impersonating being a stutterer?

My feeling is that this guy is struggling with his own stuttering issues and maybe has a problem with me having become so confident and comfortable in my skin and it shows. I have not always been like this. Just last night, at a speech I gave at Toastmasters, I told of being so afraid to be found out as a stutterer that I avoided most speaking situations. I was afraid of lots of things – mostly rejection.

My gut and heart tells me that’s what may be going on with this person, who said I don’t stutter, that I am “a fluent”. I am not a SLP nor any other kind of licensed health professional. But I am an expert in my own stuttering. Stuttering is variable, complex and situational. Its apples and oranges to two different people who stutter. It’s not a contest to see who stutters the nastiest. To me, its about how I present myself to the world. Do I communicate effectively? Do I get my point across? Do I engage and participate?

The answer, my friend, is Yes. I engage and participate with the world, sometimes while stuttering. We have to be honest with our selves first before we can be honest with the world.

I had one of those “sacred space” conversations yesterday, with someone I can be gut honest with.  I shared how overwhelmed I have been feeling lately, and how much I hate not being in control. So we began to dissect the pieces, leaving enough room for the inevitable tears. I have always hated to cry in front of anyone, but my authentic self knows it really is OK.

The perfectionist part of me struggles when everything gets all jumbled together. Last week was one of those weeks, and its been continuing a bit.

First I am dealing with a nagging issue that is putting life into persepctive for me, and my car broke down on the same day I sought treatment for it.  Then I had an argument with someone I care so deeply about that sometimes the caring hurts. And then my sister came to me out of the blue needing help with a serious problem, which brought me face-to-face with the issue of control.  Or, more precisely, lack thereof.

It’s scary – that feeling of not being in control. I will admit I had a melt down. It was as near to a panic attack that I have ever had.  I am sure some of you can relate to that.

So J and I talked about that. He asked me to consider how we might feel when confronted with the greatest loss of control: dying. That was  scary to think in those terms, yet it made sense. When faced with a situation we have no control over, rather than fight and resist, kicking and screaming, it may just be possible to surrender to it.

I had no control over some of the events that the universe conspired to make happen at just the same time in my life. Yet, I reacted like I could control everything, as I am used to trying to do in my world.  I cannot do everything.  Perfect, I am not. So, I have to stop trying so hard to be in control all of the time.

The world will still love me even when I feel scared, lonely or helpless. We  all have those feelings. Control is a big issue for me,  always has been. I need to work on surrendering, gracefully, to those times when I am not in charge.

Controlling my stuttering and controlling my emotions both fall  into this realm for me. I cannot control either of them as I wish to. Therefore, I should surrender with grace when need be. This too shall pass. Thank you , J, who is wise enough and brave enough to go with me into that sacred space where we can talk about the tough stuff.

In an earlier post, I referred to how I stutter sometimes as stutter-eze. It’s what I mean when I am stuttering so comfortably, that its hardly noticeable to me or the listener.

Well, I spoke stutter-eze this morning with a colleague at work. We were  working on a plan for student advisement, which we will have to present to the team on Wednesday. I stuttered on a few words, and she said something like how confident I look when I stutter. She then asked me if there were certain words I tend to stutter more on, or if I knew when I was going to stutter.

I told her how situational stuttering is, and how it shows up whenever it feels like it. I  shared that there are certain sounds I have more trouble with – and described them as  “class four” sounds, which meant nothing to her. So I further explained that words that begin with “t”, “d” “p” and a “hard c” often give way to stuttering.

I also shared that I almost always stutter in the middle of one particular word, communication. And as I said it, of course it came out like it always does, “communica-ca-ca-ca-tion”.  She smiled and said she has to be mindful to make sure she doesn’t stutter around me, because she finds herself doing that,and she doesn’t want me to think she is making fun of me. I assured her I am OK with that.

Then she asked me if I ever do get made fun of.  I told her “sure” and gave her the example of  when I couldn’t say American cheese at the deli, and the clerk told me I would have to buy chicken wings instead. She burst out laughing, and so did I. It was not funny to me at the time, but it sure was nice to share a laugh over a stuttering moment with someone who gets stutter-eze.

She then went on to say, “I hope you don’t  get offended, but I am going to share something biblical with you. God always picks the ones with a challenge to do the toughest work. Its amazing that with a speech difficulty, you are such a great public speaker.”  Of course I was not offended.

It’s fun to speak stutter-eze with someone who doesn’t stutter, isn’t it?

I have a big event coming up in a couple of weeks. I will be facilitating the induction ceremony for students at my school that have made it into the coveted National Technical Honor Society. I am the adviser for this school club, so it is my job to tend to all the details, finalize eligible students and orchestrate the ceremony.

I remember doing it last year, for the first time. I had only been in this position for six months when I had to do it. This is a “big stage” moment. It’s big deal for the kids – it is prestigious, looks good on their resumes, and affords opportunities for special scholarship monies not available to non-members.

This year, we have sixteen students participating in the ceremony, fifteen new inductees and one senior who carried over eligibility from last year. Last year, we had 10. We have exactly 30 minutes to complete the whole ceremony, which includes me explaining what the seven points of honor are, the candle lighting ceremony, having the kids recite a pledge (a repeat after me thing – a nightmare for a person who stutters). Then I call each students name, they come to get their certificate and their photo opportunity.

Last year, when I met with the students for practice, I had let them know that I stutter, and that when we got to the pledge part where I said “please repeat after me”, I asked them to not “repeat the stutter”. It was pretty cool of me to do that, and the kids didn’t bat an eyelash. When it came time to repeat those lines, one by one, they did just that, and ignored the stuttering.

When I called the names for the kids to come up and get their certificates, I stuttered  on just about every name. No one seemed to really care except my boss, who offered his negative critique the next morning.

So, if I have already done this once last year, what’s the big deal? Well, I am worried. There are more students names to call, and the same amount of time. I am worried that the time pressure might exasperate my stuttering. I am OK with it, but wonder if I should say something this year, when I get up to introduce myself and get the ceremony started. My concern is this: I don’t want the night to be about me and stuttering. Its the kids’ night, and their parents. It their time to shine.

But I also don’t want to NOT  say anything, and have parents sitting in the audience, possibly wondering, “What’s up with her?”.  Part of me feels like I should say something light and humorously right away,  and quickly make it a non-issue. Then I will feel relaxed and no one will have anything to wonder about.

The other part of me worries that it might not be politically correct to make such a disclaimer on a big stage. It might open one of  the “image conscious school personnel”  up to criticism or discomfort. I also don’t want anyone thinking I butchered the kids names. I want people to know, “hey don’t worry – its just stuttering.” 

That’s my inclination – that’s what I want to do. But the occasion is bigger than me. I am going to seek opinions. Any here?

In case you haven’t noticed, I really enjoy talking about stuttering. I have made room for it in my life, and it is my hope that you will too, if you stutter.

I have decided to move my blog to wordpress, because it has more editing options and some cool widgets that I want to try. And they have a free page view counter, which I am interested in, now that I have been blogging for almost 3 months.

So, if you know anyone who was reading me over at the other site, let them know I’ve moved. And please, feel free to share with others whose lives are touched by stuttering. There is value in sharing about our stuttering experiences. That I know.

And leave a comment too, so I know what you think.

I am a reader, a lover of books. Very often, a passage or quote will move me in a special way. Such was the case when I started reading a book I recently picked up at an independet bookstore. This shop is one of those where you can get lost in the aisles for hours or even sit on the creaky wooden floor with a treasured book and the sales people don’t get upset. As a matter of fact, they encourage that. I have done that many times, and lost track of time.

In this particular instance, I brought the book called “Broken Open” by Elizabeth Lesser. It is a spiritual account of how people weather change and transition. The question is asked: “Will we be broken down and defeated, or broken open and transformed?” One of the short chapters called Open Secret begins with an excerpt from Rumi, the timeless poet who wrote poems so alive that they still glimmer with freshness even eight centuries later.

The piece that moved me is so simple:

“Learn the alchemy true human beings know. The moment you accept what troubles you’ve been given, the door will open”. (Jelalluddin Rumi).

This can apply to many things in life – job loss, disaster, death, abuse, and stuttering.

The moment, hour, day that I accepted my stuttering, doors opened, wide. I had been broken down by fear and shame, and wore my stuttering like chains of shame. (I wrote a poem called “Chains of Shame”. It is posted on this blog on 2/16/09).

It was dark and heavy, being broken by my stuttering. I was fearful all of the time, and lived in terror that someone might find out I stutter and burn me at the stake or something. I much prefer this way, being broken open. My stuttering has opened doors for me, and I am walking through them, hell, sometimes running. I am now breathless and eager, instead of cautious with pounding heart.

We allow ourselves to be broken down or broken open. The choice is ours. My stuttering has become an open book. Anyone is welcome to read it, or better yet, lets read it together.

Today I was chatting with someone about stuttering. He told me he has a friend who stutters, but doesn’t know much about stuttering. He asked me if I stutter less around friends, as opposed to strangers or people I don’t know very well.

You would think the answer would be that I stutter less around friends, but its the other way around. Around strangers or people I don’t know well, I tend to mask my stuttering and feel some pressure to stutter less. Use those old tricks.

Around friends and people I am really comfortable with, I stutter more. That’s because I feel comfortable enough to do that, and feel so comfortable with that person that there is no need for pretense, tension, or conscious avoidance techniques. I consider it a very good sign when I am stuttering naturally, with smooth and easy repetitions. I have almost no tension when stuttering comfortably. Its also a sign that I like you very much when I stutter a lot around you.

I would never have given this question any consideration if I was still hiding my stuttering. I would have been embarrassed. And I don’t think my friend would have even asked. Being open allows someone to feel comfortable enough to ask that. And I felt perfectly comfortable answering his question, honestly. That is so special.

And what’s really cool . . . . . . . . a lot of people are getting to hear my stuttering. My world keeps getting bigger and bigger everyday. Reminds me of something that good friend Lee told me about a year ago, when I shared with her that I was out of the stuttering closet. She said very simply, “Welcome to the world”.

Yesterday I got a call from someone inquiring about the Toastmasters club that I belong to. My phone number gets to be listed on the website for our club because I am the president. So I get lots of phone practice, whether I like it or not.

The phone gives me the most trouble. I have heard other people who stutter say the same thing. I can’t quite figure out what it is with me about the phone, but sometimes I’ll block completely on the phone, something that I don’t typically do in person. I have had people hang up on me in the past, because I didn’t say anything and they weren’t expecting a stutterer on the other end.

Anyway, this woman called looking for information about our club and she had a lot of questions. English was not her first language, so I was having trouble understanding her, and more than once, I had to ask her to repeat something. She was nervous about joining Toastmasters, because in her words, “I don’t speak that well”.

I smiled to myself, and went about putting her at ease. I said to her, “Then we are just what you are looking for. Toastmasters is a place where people from all walks of life come together to practice speaking and communi-ca-ca-ca-tion skills”. (I often stutter on the middle of that word, in person or on the phone). She then wanted to know what types of professions people in the club were in and how many members we have.

I replied, “Oh, we’re a re-re-re-really diverse group”. ( I sort of blocked, and almost pushed the “reh” sound out, and braced myself for a negative reaction). She said something like, “you must be very proud of your group, to emphasize really so many times”. I laughed and said I sure was proud, and that I was looking forward to her visiting our club next week.

I enjoyed the humor I found in this situation. A couple of years ago, I might have been offended, thinking she was making fun of me, but this I took in stride and found the humor.

Coincidentally, I am planning to do a speech next week on stuttering. The speech goal is to deliver an informative speech on an abstract concept. I am going to discuss fears and desensitization, and explain how voluntary stuttering can reduce or eliminate fear of stuttering.

Hoo-Rah!

Someone asked me recently how I got to such a good place with my stuttering. I wasn’t sure what he meant by “good place”, as that is obviously very relative, and asked him to elaborate. He said , “well, you seem so comfortable with everything and you just seem to take stuttering in stride. How did you reach this point?”

Trust me, I have not always taken stuttering in stride. It has been a journey with lots of bumps and potholes. Three years ago, I would not stutter publicly, because I was afraid of social punishment (Greg’s phrasing), mostly rejection. I was convinced that people wouldn’t like me because of my stuttering and was afraid to show that part of me.

I had received negative messages about stuttering all of my life. Early on, those messages came from my father, grade school teachers and classmates. I learned to protect myself from mockery by hardly ever talking. It worked for a long time. In high school and college, on the few occasions when I did dare talk, I pretended the stuttering was something else, coughing, forgotten words, anything but admit I was stuttering. It still worked for the most part.

In adulthood, some people would make cracks like, “did you forget your name or where you work?” or “don’t talk much” when something came out repeated or hesitated. I tried to shake those things off, but it became harder and harder. In the workplace, at the job I was eventually fired from, a manager was particularly brutal to me. At that point in my career, I had to do a lot of public speaking.

I was still very much in covert mode, but it wasn’t working well for me any more. When I do stutter, it is obvious. I just never admitted I stuttered when I was covert. I thought I was fooling everyone, but they knew. The only one I was fooling, and hurting, was myself. Anyway,this manager would roll his eyes when I spoke, would slap his face in disgust and would point and say things like, “Do you hear her? Unbelievable. She can’t even speak.”

After swallowing this and other things for a while and then getting fired for being a poor communicator, something inside of me just snapped. I decided on the day that I was fired that I wasn’t going to live like this anymore, allowing people to rob me of my dignity and self-respect.

I was going to do one of the hardest things in my life – accept that I stutter and let others know. I was afraid of being hurt, of being ridiculed, of being rejected. But I wanted to come clean with myself more than I was afraid, so I pushed through the fear and did it anyway, in baby steps.

I found self-help and went to meetings, at first not saying anything. I cried after the first two stuttering meetings. I was afraid to admit that I stutter even to other people who stutter. But it got easier, and my desire grew bigger than the fear. That’s basically how I did it – acknowledging the fear, and doing what I was afraid of anyway. Like the book by Dr Susan Jeffers, “Feel The Fear And Do It Anyway”. (If you haven’t read it, do – it offers great insights for all of us).

You have to acknowledge that fear of the unknown will always exist. Essentially, you make a choice: let fear control you, or “you” control you. I chose the latter, and finally I am leading the life I want. Its not always easy, and sometimes I still hit those potholes. And sometimes I cry , a lot. But life is far better when I am in control and making choices based on what I want and need, instead of fear-based. It’s not always easy, but it sure is worth it.

Yesterday was a wonderful day to be a stutterer. The universe conspired to send me messages in three very different ways. But the messages all said and pointed to the same thing – its good to stutter. Life is good. I am very proud to stutter.

Here’s what I mean. I have a Face book account -doesn’t everybody these days? It is a convenient way to stay in touch with lots of people and know whats going on. Its also a great way to make new friends. Well, early yesterday, I got a friend request from someone I didn’t know, along with this message. It moved me – it really did.

“Hi Pam I have seen your videos on youtube . Also I have always been interested in reading your posts in the stutteringchat and covert stuttering forums. You are one of the most amazing and influential members in the stuttering community. My name is Ammar and I also stutter mild to moderate. I am from middle east and currently I am studying in the US. I am a covert stutter and find your contributions in covert stuttering issues are very informative. I would love to add you as a friend if you don’t mind.”

Who would mind that? I was touched and honored, and got a little teary, I will admit, as I read his words. Amazing and Influential. Who, me? You never know who we might reach. This affirms that what I do and my sharing my stories has value and is meant to be. Needless to say, Ammar and I are now friends, and I hope we get to know each really well.

Also on Face book, I learned that the Our Time Theater group, who performed in NYC on Monday night, was going to be featured on NBC’s Nightly News. Lots of people who stutter are on Face book, and this message spread like wildfire. I called home and asked my patient partner to please set the DVR so I could see it later. I call him patient because he is not into stuttering like I am – he thinks I should be so over the need to keep doing me the way I am. (I could go on and on about that, but will save it for another post!)

So, sure enough, Taro Alexander and his kids who perform in the theater troupe were featured on the news program. What a tribute. I had seen these incredibly inspiring kids at last year’s NSA conference. They are wonderful, and we adults should be so proud of them for being who they are and so very proud of Taro for seeing the value. Here’s the link to Our Time’s Blog , where the videos are posted, in case you didn’t get to see them! http://www.ourtimenyc.blogspot.com/

The third amazing thing that happened yesterday (or this morning, depending on what time zone you are in) was through internet technology, I was able to talk in real time with Ridwan from Scotland and Tone from Norway. We used Skype to make this connection and we talked for over an hour and a half. Ridwan and I both stutter, and we did during our phone conversation and we talked about our stuttering, Tone is a student from Norway, studying to be a teacher. Her long term goal is to be a SLP and she is learning about stuttering by connecting with us.

This conversation was very moving to me. First, it brought together three people from different parts of the world who share a commonality. Second, that these young people – both students – were patient enough with me to help me to use Skype for the first time. Once I got the hang of it, I was truly awestruck how easy it is to connect to anyone in the world. But more so, to listen to their accents and realize the incredible reach stuttering has.

A far cry from when I was a little girl and thought I was the only one who stuttered. It is wonderful for me to realize the impact that we can have on each other’s lives, just by being who we are and for being brave enough to share the very essence of ourselves with the word.

It is worth saying again: I do me. I offer that to everybody. Do you!

Sometimes we have issues that need to be talked about, but don’t get talked about. The issue gets attention by not getting attention. It may sound confusing, but is not really.

I once wrote a speech about this for Toastmasters and delivered it with a good dose of passion. I can always talk passionately about what I know best. Because it comes from the heart.

I have firsthand knowledge of “the elephant in the room”. On several counts. As a kid, it was my stuttering. No one ever talked about it-it was taboo. Almost like if we didn’t talk about it, it didn’t exist. We all danced around that for years.

The same with my mom’s alcoholism. We never talked about that either. For so long, we thought it was normal – this chaos, uncertainty, fear – but it wasn’t. The elephant was screaming to be talked about. He was every color – pink, blue, white – always there, always on the surface, always ignored.

And the same with other stuff going on in the childhood home, that one day will be written about and embraced. The elephant walked a tightrope in our backyard, inside the confines of the eight foot fence that kept us in and towered over us. No one could look in and see what was going on.

I have seen elephants at work too. The place that I worked at for so long was a toxic environment. Morale was bad, communication was poor, and management often managed by intimidation. The elephant in the room was whispered about in the lunch room, in the break room and the smoking area. No one dared ever speak up and talk about the real issues, out of fear. Fear of humiliation, fear of job loss, fear of retaliation. Even though those things shouldn’t occur in progressive, enlightened workplaces, they do and we know it.

It was probably the best thing that ever happened to me, getting fired from that place. The elephant danced and I started a new chapter of my life.

Sometimes the elephant is there between just two people, larger than life, so painfully obvious. It is there between me and my dad, taking up so much space, that we can’t talk. The elephant shows up sometimes between me and my mom too, although this elephant is actually more of a baby elephant. We can push it away sometimes and have a real talk.

The elephant exists within a relationship I have right now. Years ago, I was not honest about my true feelings about someone, and neither was he. The elephant has grown bigger and bigger. Neither of us knows enough to slay this elephant. We need to get it to dance. When the elephant dances, you shake up the unspeakable issue and gradually make it speakable.

My stuttering became speakable. As I noted in a previous post, it has become stutter-eze.

I know I can dance gracefully with an elephant. We’ve done it before, the stuttering elephant and I. We have danced the two-step, the jig, the electric slide and the waltz.

The elephant was in the room a couple of nights ago when I spoke at Toastmasters. I was stuttering and some folks had not heard that before and looked puzzled. I should have introduced my stuttering and had the elephant do a little jig right then and there. Pink tutu too!

Make the elephant dance. It can be surprisingly light on the feet and light on the heart.

I remember the first time I heard anyone suggest I try voluntary stuttering, I remember thinking, “what a ridiculous thought”. I couldn’t imagine doing on purpose that which I had tried to avoid or cover up for years. It just didn’t make sense.

But it did make sense. When I learned that voluntary stuttering actually gives you some control over your stuttering, that made sense to me. Because control has always been an issue with me.

I had very little control over what happened as a child growing up in chaos. I had no control when my mom drank. I had no control when my dad was constantly criticizing me or ruling the house with a physical fist. I had no control over my speech. I was yearning for something to be in control of, even as a scared little girl.

Years later, as an adult, I would have stuttering moments where I felt such a lack of control that it felt like I was that terrified child all over again. Sometimes I drag my words, and my jaw and lips seem to go with the drag. It is like a tremor in my lips -where I have absolutely no control.I never knew that this was actually referred to as “blocking”, because when I was covert I also denied that I stuttered.

Now that I am being open, overt and accepting, having a tool for control was intriguing in a way.
I could choose where and when to stutter purposefully, and I could control how it would sound. Except of course when the voluntary stutter turns into a real stuttering moment. That happens once in a while, and the control changes.

I have found voluntary stuttering to be most useful when I actually talk about stuttering. Either one-on-one or in a group. If I am “not stuttering enough” I will throw some purposeful stutters in, for good measure and to lend credibility. Yeah, that’s right. I sometimes feel I am not stuttering enough. That is a thought perhaps unique to covert stutterers. That feeling of being caught between both worlds. Oh, what a bittersweet feeling.

Being able to stutter on purpose gives me a sense of control, even if only for a millisecond. I have initiated the stuttering and I am in charge of that space. Even if it turns real, which is OK too.

Now I know why I am so enthralled with my Tasmanian Devil auto air freshener. It has long lost any scent, and is faded from the sun. I also have a favorite Loony Tunes character shirt with Taz proclaiming to be a “control freak”. So Taz and me have something in common. We share that “feel-good” feeling that comes with having control of a little piece of our world.

Yesterday was a very good day.

I visited with a friend who just had a baby girl. Her toddler son was paying lots of attention to me, as he is clearly rebelling against his new status of not being the baby anymore. He kept yelling for me, happily shouting, “Ham, Ham, over here”. He couldn’t quite get “Pam” out, but I was happy to be called “Ham”. There is something magical about being the center of attention of a child’s world, even if only for a few minutes.

We played some ball toss, and I helped him put keys from a keyboard back together. For some reason, he was more interested in putting them down my shirt. I will remember yesterday.

I also got my hair cut yesterday. I let my stylist do something a little different, a little funkier than I am used to. She gave me two choices: we can go boring, or we can try a little something new. What would you have done? I wasn’t going to admit I actually prefer boring – its easier to do. This new funkier style requires effort. I always obsess if I am going to be able to “do” my hair the same great way it looks when I am in the chair.

Yesterday was also different than the day before as far as my stuttering. I recently heard a woman talk about where she is at with her stuttering journey, and she mentioned how each day is so different than the last. As I listened to her, I was saying, “Yeah, me too. No two days are ever the same”. Yesterday is different from the day before and today and tomorrow.

Yesterday was a fairly smooth day. I talked about stuttering, but only had a few stuttering moments. I mentioned last night (yesterday) that I want to clean up the storage bin, where I dumped a lot of my stuff after being fired that day, almost three years ago. When I said that, my partner commented that he can’t believe that he didn’t know I stuttered until I was fired that day. He said he didn’t know that someone could hide it so well. I had done a good job.

That was yesterday in my life too. When I was afraid to talk about stuttering. Today and tomorrow is so much more exciting, as this relationship with my stuttering continues to develop and strengthen.

Yesterday was a very good day.

I don’t stutter around just anybody. No sir-ee. Anyone who knows stuttering knows that stuttering is situational and variable. My stuttering also happens to be unpredictable, even after all this time. Sometimes I just don’t feel comfortable stuttering freely. When in that situation, I know it right away. I feel it. I feel tense both emotionally and physically.

This is what happens physically. My heart pounds really fast and loud. I can hear it acutely. I do some swaying (if I’m standing) and I look fidgety.

This is what happens below the surface, or emotionally. My thoughts are racing, I am engaging in self talk, I might possibly be planning on word switching and I am definitely not actively listening to whoever else is talking. And my old friend, Avoidance, might show up.

Now you might wonder, how is this possible with this enlightened lady who tells us how comfortable she is with stuttering and how she doesn’t want to be fixed. Well, this speaks to the very complexity and variability of stuttering. I admit it. Perfect, I’m not. (Although, I certainly tried for years to be perfect).

This is my subconscious, self preservation mode kicking in. If I don’t know you well or don’t feel comfortable, this almost automatic emotional reaction kicks in. Sometimes I don’t know this has happened until it has happened. It’s sort of like a broken kickstand on a bike.

But, if I am really comfortable with you and our space, then something magical happens. It is stutter-eze. I freely stutter and let you see all of me. I let you in. I speak from the heart and with the heart.

I have had more and more of these conversations lately. Seems that when I speak stutter-eze, it is both physical and emotional. It is my stuttering heart. What a beautiful thing to realize. If you want to understand the language of love and heart, listen to stutter-eze.