Elementary School Years
I started stuttering the moment I began elementary school – right around age four. I have no idea how it started; I was simply too young to realize what was happening.
I went straight into speech therapy. I still remember being taught to stretch out words on purpose to prevent stuttering, and to avoid tricky words altogether.
As a child, I wasn’t particularly bothered by stuttering—that was just how I spoke. I had no interest in trying to fix it either, so the stuttering persisted throughout my childhood and actually got worse.
I don’t recall many specific details about how stuttering affected my youth, but one moment clearly stands out. It was in 4th grade, and our class was assigned to build an educational board game for the kindergarteners. We had to form our own groups.
It felt like everyone around me found a group instantly. By that time, I had developed so much shame and anxiety that I couldn’t bring myself to ask an existing group if I could join them.
I spent a long time wandering around, watching other children happily working on their ideas. Eventually, the teacher noticed I was wandering aimlessly and encouraged me to approach a quieter group and ask to join. This is one of the few specific memories I have from back then. But the feeling I had in that moment—and in countless other situations I can’t explicitly recall—will stay with me forever.
It’s a feeling of shame, anxiety, helplessness, and defeat. I think anyone can imagine how that feels.
I was never bullied in elementary school, nor was I ever on the receiving end of a mean comment. The kids in my class knew me and weren’t surprised when I stuttered. Even so, I lived with constant fear and shame whenever I had to speak—simply because I felt inferior to children who spoke fluently.
High School Years
Starting at a new, bigger school and being placed in a completely new class is nerve-wracking for any child. The first week was an orientation week, and on day one, we had to bring an item that represented us and share something about it.
I brought a booklet about stuttering – not because I wanted to, but to get ahead of it so all my new classmates and teachers would know about my speech issue. I was one of the last to present, and I worked myself into a state of intense anxiety. While a bit of pre-performance jitters is normal and healthy, in my case, the overwhelming spiral of toxic thoughts was anything but.
My thoughts at the time were racing: “Oh shit, it’s almost my turn and I’m going to stutter. What will everyone think of me? What if I get completely stuck and everyone stares? What if someone laughs? Should I just leave? Maybe I can get out of this.” Those kinds of thoughts are toxic, and the more you repeat them to yourself, the worse they become.
I don’t remember exactly how that day ended, but just as I mentioned earlier, I remember the precise feeling vividly. While it never escalated to full-blown bullying, I did occasionally face situations where peers took pleasure in cutting off my struggling sentences, mockingly saying, “What are you even saying?” or “Learn to speak normally first.”
I never told anyone about what happened to me or how it made me feel. Even my parents didn’t know – and still don’t – that this occurred regularly and crushed my self-esteem even further.
My grades suffered as a result. I scraped by from one grade to the next by the skin of my teeth. I knew I was capable of achieving more, but all my energy was consumed by the desperate desire to just be “normal.” Around this time, I also suffered my first migraines—mild at first, but gradually growing more severe.
Career Choice
After high school, it was time to choose a path for higher education. I had already made up my mind to pursue something that required as little speaking as possible. Looking back, I would have loved to go into teaching—or perhaps even healthcare.
On the surface, stuttering seems to only manifest physically—after all, it’s something people can see and hear. But when you realize how profoundly it dictated my career choices, you see just how deep the impact actually goes.
I decided to train as a baker. I didn’t have many passions I wanted to turn into a career, but I had always enjoyed baking, so it felt like a logical step.
Six months in, I realized a baker’s life wasn’t for me. It was a tough, male-dominated environment full of imposing figures and loud personalities, where whoever shouted loudest commanded the most respect.
At least, that was my experience of it. I simply didn’t fit in. I raised these concerns both at home and at school, but the big question remained: what was I supposed to do instead?
I had no interest in anything else, yet I was legally required to stay in school until I turned eighteen. Reluctantly, I stuck it out for two years. I will say that during my second year, I landed a great internship where the pressure was much lower. It was a supermarket bakery where they baked fresh bread and made their own pastries in-house. I truly felt at home there, and that’s where I ended up working when I turned eighteen.
Life Changes
When I was twenty-three, my life took a major turn. I entered a serious relationship—and we are still together today! After living in The Hague for a while, we moved back to my hometown, the quiet town of Steenwijk. I felt much more at ease there.
I still had no clear direction in life, but I knew I wanted to do something. Around that time, I discovered fitness. I threw myself into it and loved watching my body transform. Mentally, I was still the same insecure person I had always been, but physically, I was making real progress.
To tackle my stutter, I tried conventional speech therapy and even hypnotherapy, but neither gave me the results I hoped for. Instead, I was repeatedly told to just “embrace” my stutter, with the promise that the tension would naturally fade away.
A New Education and Career
For a long time, I kept visiting the website of an academy offering fitness trainer courses and health programs. But then reality hit: I stuttered, so becoming a fitness trainer seemed impossible. Who would ever take a trainer who stutters seriously? That was my line of thinking.
After about six months of hesitation, my boyfriend called the academy on my behalf. I couldn’t bring myself to make the call, terrified I’d freeze up and stumble over every word. He had a great conversation with them and booked an appointment for us to visit in person for an orientation session.
I was so pleasantly surprised and impressed by the personal chat and the tour that I enrolled almost on the spot! I have always considered that decision to be the single best choice of my life—it transformed so much of my world for the better.
My fellow students were incredibly welcoming and didn’t bat an eye when I spoke. I had never felt so truly valued in a group setting before. Eventually, I landed a job at the gym where I completed my internship. They were able to look past my stutter and see who I really was. Several colleagues even expressed this to me directly, which meant a lot and made me feel genuinely appreciated.
The Stumbling Block
Things were going well for me; I had never felt more comfortable in my own skin. Yet stuttering remained a persistent stumbling block. People around me claimed my stutter didn’t bother them—or at least, that’s what they said.
In reality, it was taking an increasing toll on me—manifesting not only through my speech and self-doubt, but also in progressively severe migraines.
I had first heard about Del Ferro on a TV talk show and had visited their website multiple times. Still, doubts held me back: Did I really stutter that badly? Did I actually need this? Worst of all was the prospect of joining a group setting and having to do an initial consultation over a video call.
Eventually, the tension at work (at a new gym by then) escalated so much that I failed to serve a customer properly. It crushed me. I pride myself on being polite to everyone, but because of my stutter, all that came out was a blunt “No.” What I had actually wanted to say was: “No, that beer is on tap, so it isn’t non-alcoholic. If you don’t like it, let me pour you a fresh one.”
That moment was the final straw. I was so furious with my stuttering that the very next day, I went online and booked an intake consultation.
Del Ferro Stuttering Therapy & Today
While becoming a fitness instructor was previously the best choice of my life, I now consider Del Ferro’s stuttering therapy to be the absolute best decision I have ever made.
Of course, I was extremely nervous that Monday morning when I walked into the Del Ferro Institute, but I knew I had to give it a shot. I was skeptical, but I wanted to make sure I had tried everything to break free from stuttering.
From day one, I applied the Del Ferro method and stopped stuttering completely. It was a remarkable feeling. It felt amazing not to stumble over words and to feel no pressure building up in my throat or head.
The technique wasn’t difficult to apply. At first, it takes some getting used to speaking with your eyes closed and your hands placed on your ribs, but that was essential to get to the root of the issue.
I immediately thought: I’m just going to do this, no matter how unusual it might look to others. The technique was gradually phased out—at least that’s how I experienced it—moving toward increasingly natural speech. After the 5-day stuttering course, normal life resumed, and it was time for me to get back to work.
I immediately made an agreement with my employer to give a presentation about stuttering and the Del Ferro method instead of leading a core workout class. Was I nervous? Absolutely! But to me, it felt like something I simply had to do. It was a major challenge that would ultimately build my confidence.
At the same time, I wanted to explain my situation to the people I saw regularly and let them know I needed their support to make this successful. It was killing two birds with one stone.
People were amazed that I no longer stuttered. And today, it feels as though it has always been this way.
Since then, I’ve only had one real moment of stuttering. It happened in an unexpected situation where I felt pressured to react quickly. I could feel myself straining, just as I used to do whenever I stuttered. I had always assumed I would be devastated if I ever stuttered again.
Contrary to my expectations, it wasn’t as bad as I feared. I was frustrated and needed to vent my emotions, but it actually fueled my determination to press on—because I was absolute in my resolve never to go back!
I feel a deep sense of gratitude and warmth whenever I think of Del Ferro. They provided the exact support I was searching for. Of course, personal motivation and perseverance play a major role, but without Del Ferro’s guidance, I would still be stuttering today.
I wasn’t just coached on the physical aspect of stuttering, but also on the mental side: how to manage your own thoughts. That was a true eye-opener for me and carried me through many difficult times—both stutter-related challenges and unrelated hurdles. True wisdom for a fulfilling life.
As I write this, aside from that single moment, I haven’t stuttered in 11 months and feel better than ever.
I can speak freely and say whatever I want. People meeting me for the first time never suspect I used to stutter and are genuinely surprised when it comes up. Another incredible outcome: I haven’t had a single migraine since!
I now look forward to the future with confidence and feel empowered to pursue my ambitions.
I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who helped and supported me along the way. Every bit of support – no matter how small – made a huge difference on my journey toward a stutter-free life.
