How my daughter's stammer helped me accept mine

Image

Caption

Sarah as a girl

Sarah Sarno tells us how having a daughter who also stammers encouraged her to address some of the things she's been carrying around for years.

Hi, I'm Sarah and the picture above is of me as a girl. I feel like I've written this article for her.

I remember first being aware of my stammer when I was around 5. It wasn't something that was spoken to me about. In fact, it was never acknowledged at all. 

I remember the dread that would sometimes wash over me, particularly in high school. Waiting to answer my name at registration or reading aloud to the class would make my chest tighten. I'd try to push the sound out and often struggle to breathe properly. Once I managed to start speaking the words would usually come, but every full stop meant starting again, and that felt like a mountain each time.

• Become a STAMMA member for free or sign up to our mailing list

Keeping it to myself

Looking back, I wonder, did my teacher notice? Would it have helped to talk about it? For some reason I chose to keep it to myself, not out of embarrassment; I can't ever remember feeling ashamed of my stammer. What I felt instead was frustration. Frustration at myself for not being able to fully control it, and a quiet sadness at feeling so alone in it. I've always been a confident person, and my stammer existed alongside that confidence, not in place of it.

...every full stop meant starting again, and that felt like a mountain each time.

Even today, most people wouldn't know I stammer, even some of my closest friends. Not because I try to hide it. It's just always been something I manage quietly, almost instinctively, without feeling the urge to explain.

I hold a professional role that involves daily communication. I'm articulate, engaging and clear. But there are still moments when I feel the familiar tension creep back in. And it's exhausting. Stammering can be incredibly tiring on both the mind and body. It can feel like everything is heavy and overworked. And when the words get lost, when I can feel them there but they won't come, it can be quite scary.

My daughter

However, the way I view stammering has shifted, in no small part thanks to my beautiful daughter Eliana's own journey with stammering. Having her has made me accept stammering as part of who I am because if I can't, then how can I expect her to? I don't want her to struggle the way I did and I want to be someone she can talk to about it. In many ways, I feel like everything I went through with my own stammer was preparing me to be her mummy; to truly understand, to support her fully, and to be able to walk alongside her. 

...I feel like everything I went through with my own stammer was preparing me to be her mummy; to truly understand, to support her fully, and to be able to walk alongside her. 

Having a daughter who stammers too has made me face parts of my own experience that I had tucked away for years. Now, when I notice my body instinctively blocking or trying to suppress my stammer, I try to stay present with it and ask myself why. I've been doing it for so long, since I was a child, that it often happens without me even realising. But with age and awareness, I've started to recognise that a lot of the tension I carry in my body might actually be from years of unconsciously trying to block my stammer. What may have once been a defence mechanism has, over time, turned into something deeper, often like there's a constant internal effort to keep things under control.

My stammer is most noticeable when I'm tired, upset, or experiencing hormonal changes. As someone who works in maternal health, I find this connection deeply important and under-researched. I follow developments in this space closely, always looking to better understand something that's been part of me my whole life.

Validation

Something else that helped was when I listened to a guest speaker at a professional event who stammered too. I'll never forget the feeling of recognition when I heard him speak. We spoke afterward and I still remember how validating it was just to share that space. I remember feeling so proud of him because even though I didn't know his story, I somehow sensed what he had been through to get to that point. To speak in front of a room, to allow the stammer to be heard, to not hide it.

It feels like I'm now welcoming my stammer as a part of me and my subconscious doesn't quite know what to do with that yet. It's unfamiliar territory after years of resistance. But how amazing is the brain? The way it adapts, protects, and evolves. I'm beginning to see it not just as something to manage, but as something deeply connected to how I've moved through the world. There's something strangely beautiful in that.

Everyone's stammer is unique to them. Some wear it openly, others carry it quietly. Both are valid. I suppose I'm writing this for anyone who might be quietly carrying their stammer, unseen, unheard and unshared.

You're not alone. We're out here too.

Read more Your Voice articles.

Would you like to write something? Share your own stammering journey, tell us about your experiences or just vent. See Submit Something For The Site or email editor@stamma.org for details.