Finding My Voice

Brian Norvaisis grew confident by writing

I have been a heavy stutterer all my life. Speaking a full sentence has never been easy for me. Name any letter of the alphabet, and my throat clutches up just at the thought. Stuttering has brought me a lot of pain, frustration and loneliness. And it has also brought me a source of infinite joy.

Growing up, I was constantly unable to express myself. Unable to explain myself. When all the other boys starting asking girls to go on dates in middle school, I was terrified for a whole other reason. If I had been able to actually ask a girl out, I would have been the first boy in my school to do so. The gift of speech would have made me so deliriously happy that no fear could have touched me. But I literally could not ask them out.

Unable to speak much, I learned how to be an excellent listener. I am still amazed just how much one learns when one shuts his mouth and actually listens. As the years wore on, I learned more and more, and there was a great wealth of information begging to be let out of my soul.

Then, in 11th grade, everything changed. I am one of those people whose very life may have been saved by one very special teacher. He taught creative writing, and he just let me write. He did not tell me what to write, or when to do it. He just released me. The paper and pencil had always been there, but no one had ever given them to me and said, “Write what you feel. Tell me what is in your soul.”

For the first time in my life, everything I wanted to say, I could say. Seventeen years of walled-in thoughts and emotions came flooding out. Not only did I enjoy writing, it was my gift. I made worlds and populated them with people and places that embodied everything I had learned in life, everything I feared, and everything I hoped would one day come true. No longer did something rise up in my heart only to be trapped at the base of my throat.

Every day I would write more, and that teacher did something for me that spoke to me in private, and told me how much he enjoyed the stories I was creating, and how he waited eagerly for every new page. What a gift! To have writing not only bring me joy, but bring joy to others too. I would often see him reading my writing – my pages, my words – at his desk, and the confidence that gave to this boy who had previously been unable to express himself was inexpressible. He would ask me about my stories with an excitement I could not remember anyone ever feeling about me, and while I could not answer him in vocal speech, I now knew how I could answer.

It has been eight years since that teacher stepped into my life. And I still wonder – if I had not endured the weight of stuttering, would I have ever followed the path of the writer? Writing continues to give me joy – it lets me feel like I can breathe, like I am completely unhindered. I still have my stuttering, and whenever its weight starts to get me down, all I have to do is write, and I feel completely weightless. If not for my stuttering, I might have never fallen in love with the freedom of writing.

Stuttering has opened my eyes in other ways. I notice the quiet people; I notice need help but cannot ask for it. I was never one to make fun of other children; I knew too well that life was hard enough without us adding to its difficulty. I learned that it is the joys we can give each other, not the joys we can take away, that truly show our worth.

Stuttering has shown me the calling that brings me happiness and fulfillment. I relish the bliss of being able to express every tiny inch of myself. A gift like that is beyond any price, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.