Step one of acceptance rarely feels “good”. When you compare yourself to someone further on their stuttering acceptance journey, it’s impossible to imagine that they can relate to you. Someone saying “I wouldn’t get rid of my stutter” might even anger you - does this person have any idea what it’s like?
Here’s the thing: they do. And their journey likely started with very similar emotions that you have now. But difficult emotions are a lot harder to talk about.
Accepting your stutter is exchanging one hope for another. It’s sacrificing the one thing you thought would save you this whole time: fluency. It’s saying I don’t think fluency is going to come save me, so now what?
What I can promise: it gets better. And it gets better once you practice acceptance. It won’t be a one-time thing.
I have a lot more to say about this. Thinking about doing a series. Or a book LOL. I also think this applies to a lot of other stuff, not just stuttering. And it applies to parents who want the easiest possible life for their child.
Acceptance will make everything easier. But first it will drag you through the coals. You’ll make it.
[[Image: “Accepting my stutter” didn’t feel good at first. In fact, it felt like rock bottom. To give up what you’ve told yourself to survive? There is a grief there. But healing can begin at rock bottom.”]]
Speak them out loud. It feels awkward. But your body is listening.
“If we only get one life, I want to spend it fully present in body and mind.”
4 Tips on overcoming our own weird feelings about our stutter and learning to accept it
Some days, it may feel like the world is against you, but you have hope. Hope that things can change. And that you can be a part of that change.
Having a disability is not being broken. Hard stop.
“I held out hope for years that something, some day, would magically cure me. But nothing did. The only thing that ever eventually made a difference was me.”
When you say you want you or your loved one to speak “normally” - there’s a few issues here.
In the moment, stuttering feels endless. But the secret is the opposite - the word will eventually come out. Even if it takes awhile.
Accepting your stutter is exchanging one hope for another. It’s sacrificing the one thing you thought would save you this whole time: fluency.
We don’t need to pretend to be okay when our world doesn’t include us, or makes us feel like a burden.