Sticks and Stones...Hurt Like Hell, Damn It!

As a young child, I wasn't the most brawny of kids. In fact, I was downright scrawny and wimpy. I was born 2 1/2 months early, weighed only a few small pounds and never really caught up. Because of my pint size, I was often the target of bullies. When I was in middle school, around 6-8th grade in the United States, I had the stature and build of a kid of no more than 9 or 10...even though I was 12-13 years of age. In the locker room after gym, all the kids stood at least a head or so above me.

Because of my small size, I wasn't too adept at physical confrontation. Redeeming myself and my good name through the use of "fisticuffs" wasn't my forte...never was and never will be. In my entire childhood, I was probably only engaged in two fights ever; one was with my brother and the other was with a kid in the 6th grade who wiped the school yard with my face.

While I wasn't adept at physical confrontation, I did learn early on that I could defend myself pretty well with my words. Despite my stutter, when I would become angry, I could give someone a hefty tongue lashing, so much so that I had a reputation for being fairly skilled at verbal put-downs and insults. It was my sole effective weapon, though not effective if the target of my verbal rampage decided to take things a step further. Then I would be at a decided disadvantage once again.

My verbal skill, while also somewhat of an advantage at choice times in my dealings with schoolyard peers, was also my biggest source of trouble at home. My mother was a strict disciplinarian and demanded respect and absolutely forbad "talking back" or "giving sass" to adults. But, I was unable to control my mouth, even with my parents, should we disagree over some thing or some issue. I would argue an issue, even if I was in the wrong, to the point of distraction and was a constant source of annoyance to my mom who, on more than one occasion, stated categorically that if given the chance, I would argue with Jesus Christ himself. But, that's just silly. Jesus is a Democrat. Why would I argue with Him?

I guess I am posting this because I find it somewhat ironic that I was gifted with a sharp tongue, but also with a bad stutter as a kid. As I said in an earlier entry, I also love sharp-witted comedy and would have loved to have been a stand-up comic...but for my annoying stutter. (And assuming I'm funny. My son says that I'm funny, but also says that looks aren't everything.)

Language is very important to me. I guess that's why I developed such a love for the written word. I can't speak it as eloquently as I write it...and the advantage of writing it is that it gives you time to carefully hone what you intend to say before you unleash it on the unwitting reader. I participate in online debate, have been frequenting the same debate forum for over a decade now. I am pretty damn good at it, but I think that's because I can think before I write and I always sound more eloquent than if I had to speak aloud what I want to say.

Is any of this your experience as well? As a stutterer, what dreams did you pass on because of the limitations of your speech, if any?