The Freedom to Stutter

As I stood there in front of the cashier, I was pondering what to order and how I was going to say it, hoping to not stutter. I was ready. I had everything I wanted to say in my mind and I’ve ordered food here before with no problem. I’ve got this. I’ve ordered a bacon cheeseburger hundreds of times, which is a separate issue. I confidently said, “I’ll take the bbbbbb…” and on and on I went blocking on the B on bacon, which seemed like forever. I stood there blocking on this word, not knowing when the word would come out. This hasn’t happened to me in a long time, where I couldn’t even get the word out. Usually, I can stumble my way around words and get out what I need to say. As the blocking kept getting worse, the person at the counter started printing a receipt and grabbing a pen. I knew exactly what she was doing. She wanted me to write down my order, as if I couldn’t speak. Until that day, the thought of not being able to speak never really entered my mind. I did not want to go down that road. I did not want to settle for writing down what I wanted to say. Even if I needed to stand there for five minutes blocking on this word, it was going come out and I was determined. I was not going to give up. I wanted my cheeseburger with bacon. Why is it that bacon is always hard to say? Why can’t salad be difficult to say? I wouldn’t mind not ordering a salad because of my stuttering.

Eventually, the word came out without the need to write down my order. I was able to eat my bacon cheeseburger with BBQ sauce and no pickles in peace. I also ordered that side salad with ease.

I share that experience because in my last support group, we talked about a hypothetical question to spark more conversation within the group. Sometimes, support groups can be a little dull if no one wants to talk, which happens quite often in a group of people who stutter. Luckily, the person who leads our group loves to talk. But this time around, we were trying something new. I’m usually not the one to throw my ideas out there and see what people think about them. Most of the time, I’m not sure if my questions or ideas are brilliant or just weird and don’t make sense. Recently, however, there was a question that I have been pondering for awhile and wanted to know what other people thought.

If you had the choice between being fluent or being free from the fear and anxiety of stuttering, what would you choose? For those who don’t stutter, if you had the choice to keep living with your weakness or be free from it, what would you choose? I once read an article about people who stutter which asked them this same question. They found that people who seek fluency often carry a heavier burden of anxiety and fear because they’re constantly working on being fluent. I did this throughout middle school and high school. I was consumed with being fluent and did all I can to get rid of my stutter. Acceptance was not even on my radar. Acceptance was a sign of giving up and I was not about to give up. However, the more pressure I put on myself to be fluent, the heavier the burden I felt. Every time I stuttered, it was a dagger to my heart. It was proof that I failed to be fluent.

If you asked me whether I wanted to be fluent or free back in high school, hands down, fluency would’ve been the first words out of my mouth. But now, as an adult, I’m a bit lost. I don’t know which I would choose. If my stuttering were to go away over night, I would feel empty without it. With all the tears and sweat I had gone through with stuttering, I’ve grown attached to it. If I were fluent though, would the anxiety still be there? Would the fear of blocking and stuttering go away? In my younger days, I fought to be fluent, and at times I found myself being fluent; but I was not free. I was fluent but afraid to stutter. On the outside fluency would come and go, but on the inside, fear of stuttering would always be there.

Acceptance was the key to finding that freedom. Free to be myself and not be afraid of my stuttering. Free to stutter proudly, without shame and embarrassment.

A Breath of Fresh Air

You know that moment, when you’re relaxing on the front porch, rocking back and forth in an old wooden rocking chair, sipping on some sweat tea and humming along to some George Strait country, taking in the scenery of the land. The peacefulness of the outdoors just flows through your body. You finally feel relaxed, not burdened by the stress of daily life. That is exactly what it feels like having a conversation with someone else who stutters. It’s a breath of fresh air. It’s relieving. 

For the past couple of years, I’ve been regularly attending a stuttering support group with the National Stuttering Association (NSA), and for one night out of the month, I feel normal. Stuttering is not feared or awkwardly ignored, it’s accepted and even sometimes encouraged by the group. I stutter all the time in the group, and so does everyone else! I feel no pressure to speed up at all or be fluent. In fact it’s quite the opposite, I feel comfortable stuttering. For the first time, I can actually focus on what I’m saying instead of how I’m saying it. A couple of times, I catch myself reverting back to being afraid and not wanting to stutter in the support group, but then I remember that everyone else stutters and it doesn’t really matter. If only I could have that same attitude everywhere I went. 

At first, being a part of the NSA support group scared me. Seeing other people stutter reminded me of the pain and frustration I felt with my own stuttering. I have to admit, it was hard watching other people stutter, fighting so much harder than I did to speak. Everything in me just wanted to help them speak so they didn’t have to. As time went by, I started to realize the power of the support group. The tough times were getting easier and my stuttering became less of a burden. I wasn’t alone anymore. I still stuttered a lot and still had hard days at work, but knowing that I had friends, who also stuttered and felt what I felt, made all the difference. It was a breath a fresh air.