Seizing What Could Be
Moments of stuttering are ever present in my mind from over 20 years ago. The feelings, emotions, and aftershock of each still vibrate through my mind and body, usually outside of my control. These are the imprints of stuttering that have lasted, impeded my life, and those that I’ve focused on to smooth over their
“Hi, I’m looking for D…D…D…David.” “Excuse me, sir. Who did you say?” “D…Da..Da…David, please.” I was at the car dealership yesterday to buy out my lease. I didn’t hesitate when I stepped up to the receptionist to ask for David, the car salesman I was there to meet. I walked through the door and asked,
The ease of stuttering in front of new people is unsettling, as if it was more comfortable to do so with the expectation of someone laughing. It no longer feels like anyone will laugh or negatively react, and I don’t anticipate or expect it either. The unsettling nature comes from bracing for its impact for
“When I first started, I wasn’t comfortable at all doing interviews. I’ve kind of gotten to a point where I just don’t care. If I do an interview, and I have a stutter and then I have to see a lot of things online where people say I say ‘then’ and ‘like’ a lot but
It was more of a feeling I noticed rather than a moment. I was stuttering through situations that had once paralyzed my thoughts in fear without friction. I wasn’t struggling. I didn’t avoid anything. There weren’t any maladaptive side effects to recover from, like what should have been exhaustion from open stuttering more than usual.
No one had ever told me that it was okay to stutter. When I learned that it really was okay, I never looked back. I could be filled with resentment and regret for having pursued fluency in speech therapy for a majority of my life. Fluency was always a far off mythical reality that was incomprehensible. Everything I
Growing up with a stutter was lonely and isolating. I lost my formative years to an unbearable social anxiety that denied me the opportunity to learn how to interact with others. I had friends. I played teams sports. I passed as socially fluent. I graduated college. And, I got my dream job. Yet, no one
It was sink or swim, and storytelling was how I learned to swim. Dating sat atop my fear hierarchy like it does for many, but more so for me because of my stutter. Success at dating goes no further than first impressions, and in the age of swiping left or right—though before then as well—that means
At thirteen-years old, I attended a month long intensive fluency clinic to fix my severe stutter. If I didn’t do well, I would stutter forever. I didn’t do well. Fast forward eighteen years to a moment when I was answering questions as part of a talk I gave at the National Stuttering Association’s (NSA) annual conference. “Why do most people who
Every Waking Moment 