Growing up with a severe stutter was not easy for me; however, it was my road to finding solace. My road had many winding paths and trails. Sometimes I became lost in the forest and felt that it would never get better. My light at the end of the tunnel was my ability to always ask for help.
I was an anxious and nervous child who was a target for bullying from others. It wasn’t an easy childhood. I felt more comfortable in one-on-one scenarios; however, I would freeze and stumble over my words in group situations. An example of my stuttering was repeating the beginning vowel or consonant of a sentence, such as R, N, C, E, A, or U. When introducing myself to others, it sounded like a popped balloon releasing air since my first name begins with R.
The result of my stuttering was the development of an introverted personality, and I had few friends. I felt alone and thought that no one would ever like me or accept me into their group of friends. My mother and father were unconditionally supportive and found multiple speech pathologists to help me. For this, I am most grateful, but therapy was unsuccessful. Upon entering high school and college, my self-esteem was extremely minimal. One of my pillars of strength is my sense of humor and my ability to not only laugh with others, but to laugh at myself. This helped alleviate the complicated emotions that come with stuttering.
A breakthrough occurred for me one early morning while riding my bicycle accompanied by my friend to day camp. We rode down an unfamiliar side street and were accosted by two older boys. They wanted our bikes and one of the boys had a pistol. I don’t know what came over me during that early morning, but I finally felt compelled to stand up for myself. Physically trembling in fear, I found that inner confidence and emphatically screamed as loud as I could at the boy with the gun, “You are not taking our bikes!” My rash act of valor surprisingly worked. The boys did not take our bicycles but vehemently demanded that we never step foot again in this neighborhood. We rode to camp unscathed and had a compelling story to talk about.
In 2023, my wife and I began a small organization with a dual mission of mitigating bullying and assisting those with differences in speech patterns. We called it “The Sunny Road Foundation.” This organization is not only something I am very proud of creating, but it also allowed me to find myself. The Sunny Road Foundation became my voice, identity, trophy, and passion. When speaking with others, my stutter was still prevalent. However, something began to dissipate. What slowly went away was my incessant habit of beating myself up for stuttering. I am humbled to say that I grew up. Now, I don't mind if I stutter or repeat a letter in my first name when I introduce myself to someone.
One thing about me that I never want to change is my caring and sensitive nature and my desire and passion to help others. My road led me to becoming more confident and self-assured. Life, to me, is finally serene.
My purpose in writing this piece is to reach out to those with a stutter. If I could say something helpful to that person on a hard speech day, it would be, “Please be kind to yourself because you are amazing. And remember, everything will be OK.”
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