My stammer, overcoming it, and what it teaches me

Seven to go, to my count. Seven more and then it will be my turn to read aloud. I've already figured what sentences I'm supposed to read. Six to go. First word is "to" and I start quietly practising the first sound--"t", amongst the most challenging for someone who stutters.

It's English class, I'm in high school and I should be about sixteen or seventeen. Five to go, I keep count. And I already know I'm not going to be able to speak. Four to go. It's a realisation deeply ingrained in myself after years of failing to speak in front of people. Three to go. What really annoys me is that, deep down, I know I can speak. Two to go. And on top of that, I love English. After spending time in the US when I was little, the culture and language stuck with me, and I kept practicing reading stuff in English aloud in my room.

The classmate next to me starts reading--one to go. Whilst he reads on, I think to myself, "I can do way better than this, if only I could speak normally"...then he stops. It's my turn. I look down on the page and I know I've already lost in my mind, I'm convinced I can't read those words. But I press on and pronounce swiftly the "t".

Much to my surprise, I go through the "t", and I quickly throw in the "o", but then I realise I won't go far: next word is "stay"--the combination of "s" and "t" is almost impossible for me. And so I keep repeating the "to", hoping that by doing that I'll be able to move to "stay". But that does not work. And suddenly, at my sixth "to", a classmate cracks a joke that makes the whole class laugh--"phone line's busy!" (In Italian, "too, too" is the phonetic rendering of a phone ringing"). The joke did make me smile and I know he did not do that to hurt me. But he touched a deep wound in my feelings. A sense of humiliation pervades me.

That's a pretty accurate account of what goes on in the mind of a stutterer when attempting to talk--and failing. No matter the language. And this was just about reading--it used to get much worse when I had to present. My mind would cloud and I would start focussing entirely on the words I could pronounce fine, losing touch with what I actually wanted to say, and in so doing confusing even more myself and whoever was listening to me.

My mind would cloud, and I could no longer say what I wanted to say, but had to confusingly jump from word to word according to what sounds my stutter was allowing me to articulate.

Fast forward eighteen years. I'm watching Joe Biden's inauguration whilst bathing my kids and listening attentively to how he articulates words. I've been following him for long and well aware of him also being a stutterer. He speaks beautifully, with just a few missteps. He's President of the US--and he's a stutterer!

I catch myself smiling at what has happened in my life since that day in high school. I'm happily married to the love of my life and we're raising four incredible kids. I live in an awesome city and my job consists of thinking stuff through, understanding people, and speaking and writing proficiently. I couldn't be more blessed.

So why am I playing again that day in high school in my mind--and writing it down? It all began towards the end of last year. I was chatting with one of the consultants helping my former employer integrating another company into the group and we ended up talking about life--one of those precious and rare professional conversations that turn personal you can only have with people who are engaged with life-- and pivotal moments in our lives. I mentioned I stutter, and I'm grateful for that.

She revealed one of her kids also stutters, badly, and she was running out of options about how to help him.

Since then, I've been reflecting a lot about how I think I'm overcoming my stutter, and why I believe my stutter was a gift to me. Make no mistake--I wish nobody had the same problem. But I'm mindful of much worse problems that can hit you in life, and, most of all, I believe my stutter made me appreciate the joy and gusto of communicating what's inside of you to others.

I've had to work hard to train myself getting the correct sounds out of my mouth. I took trainings across different workshops offering methodological and structured help to overcome speech impediments. I've never shied away from the opportunity to talk publicly and, amongst the thousand defeats, there were always a few wins. Sometimes I realised I managed to say a few sentences fluently. And on those small wins I started building confidence. The turning point came, I believe, when I was seeking another job five or six years ago, and rehearsing like hell for interviews. I remember at one of those interview I was able to talk off script fluently and for long--that was the first time I thought to myself "So, this is what it feels like talking, for real!".

I'm grateful for my stutter. it reminds me to be mindful of how I want to come across, and to put in the work to get better at communicating.

But I also believe the stammer never leaves you. At least in my case, despite accumulating wins, my stutter is always there to remind me to put in the work, to be mindful of how I come across, and to always be on the lookout o bettering myself.

I'm grateful to be a stutterer. And I hope I can help others like me to figure this cross to carry is not a curse, but a blessing.

More to come on this soon!