Some thoughts from our Executive Director, Jenny McGuire, on the journey toward self-acceptance as a person who stutters

My friend and Myspeech partner SLP Rivky Susskind says that the stuttering experience is a microcosm of the human experience. I happen to find her observation to be spot-on, which is wildly inconvenient because I can not think of a more daunting endeavor than navigating the human experience. Life has shown me that being a human is a messy and unrelenting task; a journey with a dearth of shortcuts and an often counterintuitive way of unfolding. 

Does the above sound at all like the stuttering experience? Sigh…I’m afraid so.

If my first 24 years of life were to be written as a classified ad, that ad would read: DSF (Desperately Seeking Fluency). I sought fluency through the form of intense speech therapy, expensive gadgets, avoidance techniques, opting out of life when I felt I could not feign fluent speech, and myriad other strategies. I was convinced that a magical fluent unicorn version of myself was probably (definitely) just one tool or technique away, and that the stuttering me should stay as hidden as possible until that fluent unicorn could emerge. Best not to soil my image with this beta version–she was too glitchy and probably (definitely) super ugly when she stuttered. 

So without much conscious thought, it was decided that stuttering Jenny be kept as secret as possible. Stuttering Jenny did what anyone facing the boredom of captivity would do–she ate. And as she slowly ate away at my spirit from the inside, shame bloomed in the hollowed-out spaces.

As with many people who place classified ads, I was utterly convinced that I didn’t yet have all of the ingredients necessary for wholeness and contentment.  I was certain that there was someone or something out there in the world that could grant me the confidence, calm, and peace of mind that I so desperately crazed. Once I got that missing piece–fluency–I would be worthy of…well…everything. It took me almost 20 more years to truly embody the knowledge that I am already worthy of everything just the way I am. Self-acceptance, it turns out, is an inside job. 

Brené Brown says that control is the “near enemy” of connection, meaning that control may look like connection, and control may be a product of a yearning for connection, but ultimately control undermines our ability to truly connect to ourselves and others. Joshua St. Pierre describes stuttering as a shared communicative experience between two people. The listener certainly has a role in the stuttering process–I’m sure that I am not alone in finding myself speaking way more comfortably when alone than when conversing with others. 

The question is, how have these two important theories played out in my life as a PWS? Brené and Joshua’s insights have in fact intersected a great deal on my stuttering journey. After I gave up chasing the magical fluent unicorn version of myself, I began a long process of accepting myself as I am–stutter and all. Little did I know that even then, I still was thwarting my efforts to achieve wholeness on a deeper level. No longer was I chasing fluency, but I was still chasing others’ approval. My efforts to navigate life as a stutterer manifested as attempts to control others’ reactions to my stuttering. Any of the following sound familiar?

• ”If only they would focus on what I say rather than how I say it.”

• ”I wish she wouldn’t giggle when I stutter.”

• ”Why is he looking away when I am trying to maintain eye contact during a block?”

• ”I would be more ok with this if society would just stop stigmatizing me.”

• ”How dare he comment on my stuttering? I didn’t invite this conversation.”

• ”Today I’m stuttering a lot. I wish I had talked to this person yesterday when I sounded better.”

At long last I realized that I spent the majority of my life attempting to connect with others by attempting to control their reactions to me–”How great my relationships could be if they just could see how amazing I am despite my stutter?!” Chasing fluency had been my first misguided goal, but I discovered that I still needed to rise above my desire to stop chasing what fluency represented–societal acceptance. If I was ever to achieve self-acceptance, I needed to resist the impulse to control other’s perceptions of me. 

I began to “check myself” when I had thoughts focused on what I imagined others were thinking. No judgment, just “Ah, there my brain goes again.” I incorporated into my self-talk a phrase that my friend and fellow PWS Lizzie Ward taught me: “I need to put myself first.” This looks like focusing on saying what I want to say when I want to say it and not seeking to minimize stuttering to gain approval from others. Joseph Sheehan famously said, “The successful suppression of stuttering maintains and perpetuates the problem.” I had long understood that my “problem” was my reactivity to stuttering rather than dysfluent speech itself, but now I had a deeper understanding of the thoughts and behaviors that underpinned that reactivity. With this knowledge, I was better able to stop myself from reflexively avoiding/minimizing stuttering .

My first twenty years I chased fluency. My second twenty years I chased external approval of my stutter. I am now 42 years old, and finally can say, I accept myself for who I am and how I talk. St. Pierre is still correct that stuttering is a shared experience, but I have finally let go of the truly delusional aspiration that I could arrive at my own acceptance via manufacturing others’ acceptance of me. In the communicative dyad, I only can only seek to shift MY OWN thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. Those that belong to others are NONE OF MY BUSINESS. When I act on my urge to influence their perception of me, I am trying to control them, and therefore interrupting the space where true connection might otherwise occur. 

It is my deepest professional desire in life to help others walk this path toward true self-acceptance, and that is why I am so passionate about the work of Myspeech. The name of our organization dovetails well with the sentiments I have just expressed–MySpeech. Sure we all share the experience of stuttering, and all of us PWS navigate innumerable communicative exchanges with fluent speakers throughout our lives.. But at the end of the day, the only thing that each of us can shift is patterns in our own thought and behaviors. Our listeners–they are on their own journeys and their inner worlds are largely none of our damn business.. 

Myspeech is not your speech. Or Theirspeech. This is your life. Embrace it by investing in your own wholeness and letting go of attempts to control others. The process is arduous, but community support is immensely helpful, and we hope that Myspeech can be one of many  communities that lends support along your journey.