Dddifferent

“You have a stutter.” My first best friend, Brock, said to me. We were about five years old. We were playing with a plastic kitchen setup in my parlor. I was confused.

“What’s a stutter?”

“What you just did with your words.”

I didn’t know what he was talking about. No one had ever mentioned a ¨stutter¨ to me before. I went to ask my mom because I didn’t think he knew what he was talking about. She said I did have a stutter. My mom then proceeded to talk to Brock’s mother about how she intends to inquire about me having to see a speech therapist when I start school. At the time, I didn’t think too much about because I was only five. Eventually, I did end up starting speech class in 1st grade.

“Madison, you have to go to speech.”

I hear the voice of my 2nd grade teacher, Ms.Macy, call out from the other side of the classroom, alerting the class once again that Madison Militello has to go fix her stutter. I feel the eyes of my classmates shift towards me. I quietly sigh on the inside, collect my speech folder, and head out the door. My best friend, Kayla, was waiting outside for me.

¨Did you do the homework?¨ I ask, as we make our way down the hall.

¨Yeah, it was pretty easy.¨

Another speech class with Ms. Robin. Every week twice a week I went to the first floor of my school and met with Ms. Robin, the speech therapist, to work on my stutter. I didn’t like going, but I knew I had to. I understood that a stutter was a natural occurrence and I would never be able to fully control it. I still dreaded going. It wasn’t like the class was bad or anything. We just went over exercises to improve my speech. Not many other kids in my class had speech class. I felt embarrassed. I just didn’t understand why it was me. Out of all the people in the world, why did I have to have a stutter? I was insecure of something I couldn’t control.

Over the years, I’ve learned to accept it. Having a stutter as a young child really affects your self esteem and the way you look at yourself. It made me feel as if I was lesser than the other kids, like there was something wrong with me. Now I understand that no one is completely perfect; we all have something different about us. My stutter is what makes me different. When I was younger, I never realized this. I automatically labeled my stutter as something I should be ashamed of. I’m not fully proud of it now, but I’m more open and accepting about it.

I met my best friend, Kayla, in speech class. From first to third grade we had class together. I don’t know why we were paired together because she didn’t have a stutter. She couldn’t pronounce certain letters correctly. She’s the one person I truly know who is understanding about it. Of course my family is understanding, but they have to be. I like how I can really trust her. I’ve known her for so long and she knows everything about me. That was one benefit of speech class: finding my best friend.

There was one specific time I remember that I was utterly embarrassed from my stutter. I was in 2nd grade and my teacher was going around the classroom asking everyone if they started my school in kindergarten or first grade. The whole room was quiet so my teacher could finish up quickly to move on. When my turn came I panicked.

“Madison, kindergarten or first grade?”

“K-k-k-ki-ki-ki-kin,” I felt everyone’s eyes on me.

“Kindergarten?”

“Yeah,”

I don’t remember finishing the word. Out of all the times I’ve stuttered, somehow it’s one of the few memories I have of it. It’s stuck with me for all these years. I don’t like to remember it but it’s apart of who I am now.

I consider myself one of the lucky ones. According to studies, boys are more likely to have a stutter than girls. So in that aspect, I’m not that lucky. I’m lucky in the way that I am someone who doesn’t have a noticeable stutter. I am not fully able to control it, but at times I can. In a more comfortable setting, around very close friends and family, I’m more likely to stutter. This happens because I know there’s less pressure. My family knows and they’ll always accept me no matter what. There’s more pressure around your peers and friends than at home. In school or around people that I’m not fully close with, I feel myself begin to stutter. Pressure is a big part of it. If I feel as if all eyes are on me, I panic and will stumble upon my words. It might not be noticeable when I do or almost do, but there’s a feeling of on the verge of stuttering. I control my speech right before I feel like I’m going to stutter.

My stutter has affected my personality greatly. It changed the way I see myself and others. I’ve become a less judgemental person and realize that everyone is different in their own ways. Sometimes in life there are certain occurrences that you just can’t control. Everyone has their own quirks and attributes that make them the person they are today. Even if we’re not proud of them, we can accept them.