Let’s jump right into it; I don’t think you hate my stutter.
Realistically, you don’t have the time to spend deducing why my consonant sounds repeat so much. For as much of an enigma as I appear, there’s likely little urgency circulating your brain regarding the demystification of my voice. You might be reminded of me only in moments when I talk to you directly. And maybe that’s just what our connection is primed to be. And maybe that’s very much an okay thing for the two of us.
However, what you do possess is the self-allowance needed to form those moments. And the ability to let me share in them, as fleeting as they could prove to be. With that, I think, comes a sense of responsibility.
Imagine one of our initial meetings.
You, unveiling a puzzled look while I block on my name. Leading into an estranged giggle when I can’t quite get yours out. Soft, reactionary occurrences. Maybe you’ll even come to see them as byproducts of your subconscious. In your eyes, this exchange between us is but a blurry snapshot. I imagine you’ll end up wistfully deleting the memory while moving on to the next sixty seconds of your day. But for stutterers, moments like these hang themselves in hallways throughout our minds. In concrete frames larger than you would ever believe could fit. And man, are they tough to take down…
Minutes can become years, in what only feels like seconds.
Perhaps you come from a long line of educators, or a family with a penchant for Snapple-cap factoids and large bookshelves. A tense bout on Jeopardy could very well be in the cards somewhere down the line.
This is to say, I don’t doubt your intelligence.
But you’re smart enough to realize that no human being can ever know everything.
Choosing what knowledge to absorb is like choosing an outfit for your first Monday back at work. We’d very much like to prioritize the comfort of first-day sweatpants, but our responsibility is to lean into the more “harder to wear” materials.
All knowledge that we gain stems from practicing an active pursuit. And yes, my stutter might be more of a “polyester” in the summer vibe for you. An uncomfortable layer that you would rather not have to deal with. I guess what it comes down to is how badly you wish to expand your understanding of somebody who’s just like you, except for the ways they’re not. I’m just asking you to think about your willingness to don the “harder materials”.
Regarding stutterers, this process of learning takes place when you acknowledge that there is more to a voice than its physical quality. From that point forward, our information banks expand their hours. The only payment required is through our conversations.
No offense, but (most of the time) I’m actually glad we don’t sound alike. I’d never want to live in a world that negates the idea of any and all individuality. One in which the aspects of life that make each of us tick get wiped away in favor of a strict, uniform accordance. Level with me; isn’t that just all kinds of boring? In an “almost terrifying the more you think it over” kind of way? As somebody who has conversations with himself, I’ve kind of had enough of said conversations with myself. Especially now that I know how little those dialogues cater to my overall growth as a person.
I’d really rather speak with you.
It’s through (truly) hearing your words that I gain a little more perspective.
Hopefully, you can say the same.
If not right now, then someday.