Guest Post: When I Grow Up I Want to Talk. My Story of Selective Mutism

When I grow up I want to talk. My story of selective mutism.
By Kathryn Harper

When my son grows up he would like to be a spy, a fireman or a cowboy. My daughter thinks she would like to be a vet.

I had many dreams when I was a child about what I might do or be when I was grown up. Becoming an author featured quite highly – along with artist, and I’m sure I went through stages of thinking I might be a teacher, an air hostess and even a fireman. Despite all of this, more than anything, I dreamed that when I grew up I would be just like everybody else.

 When I grew up, I wanted to be able to talk to people. I wanted to feel understood and I wanted to be able to answer all those questions I couldn’t answer when I was small. I dreamed and dreamed of what I would say when I could, and how I would help people to understand …

Why are you so quiet?

 When I was young I was always being asked questions: “Why don’t you talk? Why are you so quiet?” 

I never understood why people asked me those questions so often. I didn’t talk normally, so pushed with such a question, the chances I might answer were significantly less than zero.

Inside my head, a question like this would have me screaming.

My emotions would bubble up and threaten to take over, as my rigid body stood in shock, with wide eyes staring into nothing in particular, or focussing lazily on a particular section of the floor. The words would echo over and over and over, until it felt like thousands of people were standing around me, each one of them demanding an answer.

At the same time, my world would slow, and I was aware of my heart beating through my whole body. Sometimes it felt like it took over the room, every one else was moving in slow, blurry, jolting movements as my heart’s drumming filled my ears. Tears would prick my eyes, and words would flood into my throat.

 My throat, closed tight, gave nothing away. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t answer those questions. Sometimes my mouth would open and close fruitlessly. The words just wouldn’t follow.

 I wished that they would.

I wished I could talk like everybody else.

What is Selective Mutism?

I didn’t know it at the time, but when I was younger I suffered from Selective Mutism, an anxiety disorder in which the sufferer finds it impossible to talk in certain situations (even though they can talk fluently in situations where they feel more comfortable). This condition is much more common than is widely known, and it is believed that somewhere between 1:1000 to as many as 1:100 children may suffer to some degree.

Many people mistakenly believe that people like me are choosing not to speak, but it really isn’t like this at all.

The body becomes swamped with fear and anxiety, and the vocal chords are literally frozen. Speech is not possible until the anxiety is lessened – and so finding situations and spaces in which a selective mute person feels comfortable is a crucial part of helping them to recover. No amount of asking, persuading, questioning or demanding will help.

More than just shy.

 I always assumed I was shy or quiet. That’s what other people seemed to think – and I figured they must be right. However, sometimes I compared myself to other shy or quiet people and somehow something didn’t seem right.

I didn’t feel shy or quiet the way that other people were shy or quiet. I felt like there was more than this going on. I felt different, and even a little wrong.

I imagine many selective mute children might be mistaken as being shy – but hoping a selective mute child might grow out of it like shy children often do is only likely to make things worse. The earlier a child is identified as being selective mute, and given ways to manage their anxiety, the better.

Working with selective mutism.

 I always longed to feel like I was being heard. I understood that communication was about a lot more than the words that I couldn’t say, but it didn’t seem like many people were able to listen in the way I needed them to.

I longed for someone who could sense the overwhelm and anxiety I felt; someone who would take me away from the over-stimulating environments that caused my voice to shut itself down. I longed to feel acknowledged and accepted for the communication that I could manage – and I longed for the pressure to disappear.

I do not know a lot about the sliding in process that is often used to help selectively mute children today, but from what I am able to grasp, this is a way of communicating to children that you can hear them the way I once craved.

Reducing anxiety provoking stimuli and gradually expanding the comfortable space for the child to eventually include other people is something that slowly and respectfully helps the sensitivity of selective mute children to adjust. I have heard of it being used with much success, and it makes sense to me why it works.

How I found my voice.

I found my own ways to cope as a child – and managed to begin talking to meet the expectations of other people. At the time it served its purpose, as I was no longer mute – but the implications were that I would have to spend a good portion of my adult life reconnecting with my real voice and the words that I wanted to say. 

Today, I still sometimes find it difficult to talk. Words still get stuck on their way out, and sometimes I feel like I lose them completely. Sometimes what I want to say comes out as something that doesn’t quite sound like I wanted it to. Sometimes, words just fall out of my mouth, and they don’t appear to make any sense.

Other times I still can’t say anything at all.

I am learning that all of this is okay. Whether I can or can’t talk; whether people like it or they don’t; whether I am understood or judged harshly … what really matters is how I feel inside of myself, and acknowledging how far I have come.

Once upon a time I wanted many things for myself, and today I find myself living my dream. I am an author and illustrator who can talk to people in ways that help them to understand. I am reconnecting with my words, and all the time I am expanding the walls of my comfortable place.

People might still describe me as quiet, and perhaps I am in many ways, but I am no longer asked to explain myself. I do, however, feel compelled to share my explanations anyway. All those unanswered questions from my past have been asked of many other people too. Perhaps someone will find what they are looking for in my answers.


 Kathryn Harper“It feels like a purpose of mine to connect with my past and turn it into stories and lessons that will help both children and adults to Love the life they have.”

Kathryn Harper is author-illustrator of the Katie-Jane book series, written to explore emotional concepts and connect children to their feelings through fun, rhyming verse and beautiful illustrations. She also explores her personal experiences with selective mutism, anxiety and sensitivity on her blog at kathrynharper.net. 

 You can also find Kathryn on Twitter and Facebook.

6 Comments

Rachel

You describe Selective Mutism so well and as a parent of a SM child I have shared this with my friends to bring awareness to such a debilitating disorder that is sadly misunderstood for shyness (if only!). Thank you.

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A

Thank you for this post. I appreciate it was written years ago, but would someone be able to share what the recommended book is? The amazon link no longer seems to work. Thank you!

Reply
Jana

Hey, I just wanted to say what you wrote about selective mutism was so beautifully written and I haven’t found a single thing i could relate to so much until I found this article thank you so much wow

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Research has shown us, without a doubt, that a sense of belonging is one of the most important contributors to wellbeing and success at school. 

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Rather than, ‘What’s wrong with them?’, how might things be different for so many kids if we shift to, ‘What needs to happen to let them know we want them here?’❤️
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So much of our stuckness, and our children's stuckness, comes from needing to silence the parts of us that don't fit with who we 'should' be. Or from believing that the thought or feeling showing up the loudest is the only truth. 

We believe their anxiety, because their brave is softer - there, but softer.
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One of our loving roles as parents is to show our children how to make space for their own contradictions, not to fight them, or believe the thought or feeling that is showing up the biggest. Honour that thought or feeling, and make space for the 'and'.

Because we can be strong and fragile all at once.
Certain and undone.
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We can love who we are and miss who we were.

When we make space for 'Yes, and ...' we gently hold our contradictions in one hand, and let go of the need to fight them. This is how we make loving space for wholeness, in us and in our children. 

We validate what is real while making space for what is possible.
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When our children are distressed, anxious, in fight or flight, we’ll feel it. We’re meant to. It’s one of the ways we keep them safe. Our brains tell us they’re in danger and our bodies organise to fight for them or flee with them.

When there is an actual threat, this is a perfect response. But when the anxiety is in response to something important, brave, new, hard, that instinct to fight for them or flee with them might not be so helpful.

When you can, take a moment to be clear about the ‘why’. Are they in danger or

Ask, ‘Do I feel like this because they’re in danger, or because they’re doing something hard, brave, new, important?’ 

‘Is this a time for me to keep them safe (fight for them or flee with them) or is this a time for me to help them be brave?’

‘What am I protecting them from -  danger or an opportunity to show them they can do hard things?’

Then make space for ‘and’, ‘I want to protect them AND they are safe.’

‘I want to protect them from anxiety AND anxiety is unavoidable - I can take care of them through it.’

‘This is so hard AND they can do hard things. So can I.’

Sometimes you’ll need to protect them, and sometimes you need to show them how much you believe in them. Anxiety can make it hard to tell the difference, which is why they need us.♥️
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There is always going to be anxiety. Think about the last time you did something brave, or hard, or new, or something that was important to you. How did you feel just before it? Maybe stressed? Nervous? Terrified? Overwhelmed? All of these are different words for the experience of anxiety. Most likely you didn't avoid those things. Most likely, you moved with the anxiety towards those brave, hard, things.

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To support them through anxiety, Honour the feeling, and make space for the brave. 'I know how big this is for you, and I know you can do this. I'm here for you. We'll do this together.' 

We want our kiddos to know that anxiety doesn't mean there is something wrong with them, or that something bad is about to happen - even though it will feel that way. 

Most often, anxiety is a sign that they are about to do something brave or important. With the amygdala being the ancient little pony that it is, it won't hear us when we tell our kiddos that they can do hard things. We need to show them. 

The 'showing' doesn't have to happen all at once. We can do it little by little - like getting into cold water, one little step at a time, until the amygdala feels safe. 

It doesn't matter how long this takes, or how small the steps are. What matters is that they feel supported and cared for as they take the steps, and that the steps are forward.❤️
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This is because the undercurrent of school anxiety is a lack of will or the wish to be at school. It’s a lack of felt safety.

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As loving parents, the drive to keep our kids safe is everything. But being safe and feeling safe are different.

As long as school is safe, the work lies in supporting kids to feel this. This is done by building physical and relational safety where we can.

Then - and this is so important - we have to show them. If we wait for them to ‘not feel anxious’, we’ll be waiting forever.

The part of the brain responsible for anxiety - the amygdala - doesn’t respond to words or logic. This means the key to building their capacity to handle anxiety isn’t to avoid anxiety - because full living will always come with anxiety (doing new things, doing things that matter, meeting new people, job interviews, exams). The key is to show them they can ‘move with’ anxiety - they can feel anxiety and do brave. Kids with anxiety are actually doing this every day.

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For resources to support you wish this, I wrote ‘Hey Warrior’ and the new ‘Hey Warrior Workbook’ to help kids feel braver when they feel anxious. 

And if you live in New Zealand, I’ll be presenting full day workshops for anyone who lives with or works with kids on the topic of anxiety driven school ‘avoidance’. For more details see the in the link in the bio.♥️

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