Hello. I stutter.

So despite the acceptance, there are still times — moments — that the stuttering become overwhelming. I’m getting better and better at throwing myself into situations. Into asking questions I already know the answer to. Into making spontaneous small talk.

The other night our elementary school had an event for next year’s first graders. An informational session. I went by myself to listen — even though I pretty much knew all the information.

During the course of the talk, I thought of a question. And when it came time to raise a hand for questions, my heart took off.

Like, elementary school, counting how many kids are before me so I can figure out what paragraph I have to read pounding.

I seriously thought that I had this under control. That I could calm myself down. That I was calm! This was no big deal. I had this. Maybe not? Mentally I was fine. I was forming the question in my mind, and I knew how I wanted to ask. Physically I was a mess. My breathing was tripping over itself, and my heart was racing.

This response is really, really burned in. Maybe it was being back in school? Maybe because we were in an auditorium and I knew I’d have to speak up? Maybe because these were the parents of my kids’ friends and they might say something?

My question … it sort of got asked by someone else, so I put my hand down. I could have kept it up, but I didn’t want to go through with it. It was too much in the moment. So I let my stutter win. An unexpected, come-from-nowhere win, mind you.

I spoke a long time ago about how it takes a few months when I get into a new job or situation to feel more comfortable speaking in front of everybody. Well, its been about 8 months now that I’ve started a new job, and I can certainly say I’m comfortable.

It’s easy for me to present, on a biweekly or more basis, all of my engineering projects to the plant leadership team. And that’s at three different plants. I don’t have any issues making points or asking questions on conference calls. And calling vendors and contractors is easy as well.

I’ve been able to make time to gather more background information and prepare material for meetings. That’s all helped enormously with my confidence while presenting.

I don’t feel as much stuttering pressure, either. I can still feel when I’ll block, of course. But I’ll either stutter through it, or stop and take a breath.

So for me — and your results may vary — time has helped. With comfort, with words, with confidence. I’m not planning on going anywhere job-wise — I’m back in PA where I wanted to end up after Saudi — so for now I’ll just keep pushing on seeing who I can be without worrying about my stutter.

I started a new job this week. it’s been a very long time coming. When I moved back from Saudi, I was hoping to get on the East Coast. It didn’t work out that way, and that was fine. I landed at one of my company’s office in the Midwest — where I had worked before. But I would apply for jobs back home as I saw them online. It would go in spurts. Some weeks I’d apply to a dozen, some months it was barely one or two. I did manage to get a few phone screens — HR people — and then to the next level and the hiring manager. For the longest time I didn’t advertise my stutter. I had this idea in my mind that they’d view it negatively, and this particular job (of the week) was my best shot, so let’s not add any more elements to it.

I would stutter somewhat during calls, but nothing too bad. I’ve done so many interviews and have told the same bits of experience, that it just comes off easily now. I’d maybe stutter on having to think about something out of the blue or a small line in my resume that I’d forgotten about. But still. No advertising.

I don’t know if I didn’t get jobs based solely on my experience or on their needs at the time. I don’t know if the stuttering that I did do had a negative impact. I was trying to convince myself it wasn’t.

In the fall I got an e-mail from an HR person asking about a call. I’d applied to the job a month earlier.

A close friend of mine had been encouraging me to advertise, and I thought, well, ok. Let’s do it. The decision was easier than the execution. I’ve had previous calls where I was like, ok, I’m going to advertise, this will be fine. But then the conversation got going, and the opportunity never presented itself. This time would be different. No matter what the opening question or two would be, I’d get it in there.

So I did.

I didn’t die. The interviewer simply acknowledged it and moved on to the questions. Excellent.

I made it to the next round to speak with the hiring manager (my current boss). I advertised again, and he thanked me for it. Whoa.

After a few weeks I had a chance to interview at the plant. I advertised to three people at the same time. No big deal. I had another in-person at the corporate offices. Advertised again. Still going well!

After a few weeks, I got the call that I got the job.

The other day I went to a meeting that I didn’t have to. I just wanted to try to meet more plant folks since I’d be supporting them. There were eight of them in the room, and they were talking about some activities for the upcoming weekend. Near the end of the meeting, the leader went around the room to find out if anybody had any issues. When he got to me, he said, he’s new. I took the chance to introduce myself. And tell eight people that I’m a person who stutters.

The more I did it over the past few weeks, the easier it got. And the better I felt. The weight was off. I could just speak freely, fluent, stuttering, whatever was in between.

I still have to introduce myself to two more plants in the area and countless other people. But I’ll be telling them all that I stutter.

The other day I went out to the car, and there was a groundhog in the middle of the road. We looked at each other. I got closer. He didn’t move. I got even closer. still nothing. He was moving a little, but I’m sort of used to animals running away. Or, maybe in his case, purposefully walking away. Still nothing. Maybe a broken leg? Nope, he moved around a bit. But he was still in the middle of the road and seemed really lethargic.

Since it was the middle of the morning and nobody was really around, I figured I had to do … something. I knew calling 911 wasn’t the answer, so I stood there and called the regular police number instead. They picked up quickly, and I didn’t have a plan of what really to say.

But I did alright. I didn’t stutter, simply said that, I apologize for calling about this, but you see, there’s this groundhog, and he’s here in the middle of the road, and well, he doesn’t look well, so …

We don’t deal with that.

Oh.

But, here’s a number to call instead. Perfect.

I was feeling so good about the first call, that I dialed the next number, a state department. They said that they have people who deal with this, but you have to take the animal to them.

Uh. No … I’d rather not pick him up. He’s got claws, right? I could see it ending quite badly for both of us.

So I decided to not do anything after that. I figured he’d find his way to the grassy area and then let nature take its course. I had tried at least, but it seemed that nobody was interested in the poor guy.

I will say though that my stuttering didn’t enter my mind as I was making the calls. As in, well, maybe I could e-mail someone instead. Or Twitter. Or whatever. Just call. It’ll take care of it quickly. And it worked! So now I have another small positive correlation to add to the list.

Note: Later that morning, my wife suggesting posting on the homeowner’s association Facebook page. Someone managed to call a community police officer (what?) and they came quickly to take him away. He was still moving around slowly, so it was probably a much better ending than getting run over by a car.

I think too often for those of us who stutter we focus on the losses. Moments that we stumbled, interactions that went south in a hurry because we couldn’t say anything. And they last a few seconds, and we think about all day. And over time they add up.

Part of moving toward a different attitude — that of acceptance — at least for me, is focusing on the small wins instead of the small losses. I want the small wins to add up. I want to ignore the small losses.

The other day the kids and I were walking out of a store toward the car. I noticed an SUV backing out of the spot next to mine, and the tailgate was slightly open.

Decisions, decisions. You could drive off in that. You could stop and do it yourself.

I walked up to the side of the SUV and motioned to the driver. He rolled the window down, and I said his tailgate was open. I didn’t stutter. I walked quickly to the back and closed it.

That was it.

The old me would have said, nope, no, no way, stuttering. No need to interact. It’s not life or death. Don’t even bother.

The new me is trying to ignore all that crap. What would I be doing — how would I be acting — if I never listened to that stuttering negativity? I’d be making more small talk. I’d be more engaging. More helpful. Less fearful.

A few months ago I was on a plane and having to speak in order to make things more tolerable. The other day I was on a flight and had to speak just to get my phone back.

I was on a small plane, two seats on each side. After we reached cruising altitude, it was time for a bathroom break. When I got back, someone was sleeping across both of my seats. I looked at the guy in the row behind me who just put up his hands. It was pretty odd, and pretty funny. Fortunately the plane wasn’t full, so I went to the back and found two empty seats and sat down.

But my phone was still in the seatback pocket of my original seat. On the window side. Meaning I’d have to reach over a sleeping stranger to get it. That would be the course of action for Old Stuttering Me. New Stuttering Me decided to flag down the flight attendant. She knew about the seat change. Ah, but could you please try to get my phone for me?

I suppose I could have left it go until the end of the flight. But then I thought, what if I get up there and it’s gone? I don’t really even know what the sleeping person looks like. And besides, it was a good chance to speak and, if need be, stutter through it. I did fine, bumbling through some words (planes are kind of loud, actually) but ultimately conveying my needs.

I went over to Duluth Trading Company over the weekend since I had seen a bunch of their ads … and wanted to see what it’s really all about. They have nice stuff! It wasn’t too busy, and they had a lot of staff walking around and helping. The first person who asked me if I needed help I turned away. Just looking, thanks.

I then started trying on some dress shirts. They looked big. I tried on a medium first. I should note that for a long time I’ve been a traditional XL. Pretty much ever since I can remember. I’ve recently tried to move down to a large since I don’t want to be swimming in my shirts. Anyway, the medium fit well although the sleeves were a little short. Someone came up to ask if I needed help.

“Do these shirts here have the same fit as those ones?” I asked, pointing to the ones hanging on the wall.

I’m trying to get better at just talking. Even when I don’t have to. I mean, he’s asking if I need help, and he doesn’t have anything else to do that’s more important than help customers. So it’s a nice situation even though I already knew the answer. He tells me yes, they do, and that the shirts were designed for those in the trades, so the sizes are bigger than you’d normally see.

I could have just said thanks at this point and that would be that.

But I need the practice.

“It definitely made me feel good being able to fit in a medium,” I said, smiling. He agreed, saying that he had a similar experience when he first started working here. I thanked him, and that was that.

I think to any onlooker it would seem like a simple exchange. But as those of us who stutter know, it’s a lot more than that. It’s saying what I want to say, being who I want to be.