STOP ASKING “do you consider stuttering a disability?” I know you don’t mean it to be, but it is reeked in ableism.
Here are some alternatives to ask what you really mean.
Don’t feel terribly bad if you’ve asked this - we can’t do better until we know better.
Let’s make a more inclusive and accessible world, bit by bit.
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.
