Stutter
I love talking. It’s so great. I love having a captive audience, whether it’s a toddler or a best friend who’s already got tears of laughter in her eyes. And if there’s no one there to listen but me the story is still amazing, the laughs still so real. It’s really strange to remember that there was a time when I stuttered horribly. One of the possible factors could be the fact that by time I was six years old I had lived in three different countries and spoke all their respective languages. Remembering who in my life spoke which language was fucking exhausting. What I do know is that when someone asked me a question, or made a comment and expected one in return, sometimes it took longer for me to make the words come out. I realized there was something wrong with that when I connected people’s mocking laughter, smirks, and awkward glances with the pause that preceded my responses. ...