Imagine waking up every single morning and having to face your biggest fear just to lead your normal every day life. Your heart beats faster, you get sweaty palms and you can feel butterflies in your stomach every time you walk into the office. This fear isn’t life threatening; in fact, it is something that most people do naturally without a single thought or care in the world required. This fear is speaking to people.
For me and other individuals who live with verbal dyspraxia, a neurological speech disorder, talking to people can be a very real fear. Will they be able to understand my speech? Will I find the words I need to say, and express myself as eloquently as I have rehearsed it in my head? Will I look stupid? Will I be able to say exactly what is on my mind?
Going through life not talking to people isn’t really an option, so this often overwhelming fear has to be faced every time I leave the house. Thankfully the older I have got and the more experiences I have had at having to converse with different people, the easier it has got and the better I have become at it, but the fear is still there, lurking, like a persistent fog enveloping every thought and action, obscuring clarity and casting a perpetual chill over the mind. One snide comment, look or mistake on my part can make me doubt myself and feel a great sense of inadequacy. Regardless of the social experiences I will have throughout my working life, being able to speak to people in the capacity and extent to what I would like and need to be able to do will always be a barrier to some degree, as it is a lifelong disability.
As I write this, I am reminded of the countless moments in my life where my speech and language difficulties have presented challenges, especially in the workplace. Being an adult with a hidden disability, I often find myself grappling with processing speed and difficulty engaging in conversations, despite my genuine desire to be sociable. My journey has been fraught with misconceptions, extreme social anxiety, and the continuous effort to navigate the professional world while staying true to myself.
From a young age, I’ve struggled with articulation and processing speed. While colleagues effortlessly string together words in conversation, I find myself carefully crafting each sentence in my mind before it leaves my lips. This often leads to delays in communication and an inevitable sense of frustration, both for myself and those around me. In the workplace, these challenges manifest in various ways. Simple tasks such as answering phone calls or participating in meetings can become daunting hurdles to face. Unexpected occurrences where I am expected to speak to someone spontaneously about a case can be a real hurdle as I haven’t had the time to problem solve and think about exactly what it is I need to say. The pressure to respond spontaneously to enquiries while articulating my thoughts coherently can feel overwhelming and unattainable. There have been moments when I’ve either hesitated to speak up in meetings or general conversations for fear of judgment or misunderstanding from my colleagues, or I simply haven’t had enough time to formulate the words in my mind before the discussion moves on to another topic, which can feel soul destroying.
Adding to the complexity is the misconception that my quietness equates to disinterest or lack of competence. I have lost count of the times people have mistaken my reserved demeanour for aloofness or indifference. The truth is, behind my quiet exterior lies a strong desire to connect and contribute, albeit in a way that aligns with my communication style. It is incredibly frustrating to long to contribute and add something to a conversation, always bursting with things to say but to not have the confidence nor the verbal processing time to be able to join in; sadly, this is what I experience every day. It is a major achievement for me when I manage to chip in and add a comment to a conversation, or to even initiate one with a colleague.
Though thankfully no one has said anything at my present workplace, in previous employment and other situations my communication difficulties have often been mistaken for autism. While both conditions share overlapping traits and involve challenges socially, the key distinction lies in their underlying mechanisms. Autism primarily manifests as a social communication disorder, affecting a person’s ability to interpret and respond to social cues effectively. In contrast, verbal dyspraxia primarily affects speech and language production and ability to process verbal information quickly, stemming from difficulties in planning and coordinating the movements required for speech. Thus, while individuals with verbal dyspraxia may struggle with speech clarity and articulation, their social communication skills are typically more intact compared to those with autism. Understanding these nuanced differences is crucial in supporting someone at work.
Social anxiety often exacerbates my challenges, amplifying the fear of judgment and rejection in social settings. While I yearn for meaningful connections and camaraderie with my coworkers, the fear of stumbling over words or being misunderstood looms large, due to the trauma of my speech being unintelligible for years when I was a child. As a result, I sometimes retreat into solitude, seeking solace in the familiarity of my own thoughts rather than braving the uncertainties of social interaction.
Despite the assumptions of colleagues, my quiet demeanour doesn’t define the entirety of who I am. Although I know my colleagues are well meaning and do not intend to upset me, their surprise at discovering my enjoyment of going out for a drink, an evening out with friends and my like for a Guinness, illustrates their narrow perception. Comments such as ‘you’re the quietest person in the office, I wouldn’t expect that from you!’ are nothing short of maddening. My speech and language difficulties, combined with social anxiety, are only a small fraction of me in a slither of time; within an anxiety provoking situation with people who don’t know me well, my difficulties constrain me from fully expressing myself. Beneath the surface, there’s a vibrant individual with diverse interests waiting to be unveiled. It is disheartening to feel misunderstood, as I yearn for my colleagues to witness the richness of my personality beyond the confines of my introverted exterior. I have a lot to add to the frequent discussions of CCFC, for instance. I am also a long distance runner, a nature lover, a pedigree cat owner, a neurodivergent advocate and a whole lot more. I have a group of friends I like socialising with, a family I can chat away to, a boyfriend who I like having a pint with. There is always more to someone than meets the eye.
As someone who’s naturally quiet and faces challenges due to a life impacting speaking difficulty, receiving feedback from my manager about requiring me to ask more questions and speaking up when unsure is true but tough. It’s not that I don’t want to participate, but my social anxiety, compounded by my speech and language difficulty, makes it incredibly challenging. Recently, I have got more confident at asking certain colleagues for clarification when unsure about something, but it is still a barrier. I believe workplaces in general should be flexible and accommodating to different working styles and individual needs. Advocating for adjustments that support my communication challenges, such as the ability to contribute feedback via email and giving me more time to think about my views before expecting a response while still allowing me to fulfill my responsibilities, could foster a more inclusive and supportive work environment for me.
It is not uncommon for individuals with speech and language difficulties to experience the distressing phenomenon of colleagues discussing them as if they are invisible, even when they are sitting right there, and this has happened to me several times across various workplaces. This can manifest in conversations where coworkers deliberate over whether to assign tasks or enquire about completed work, all while the individual is present. Such instances can evoke feelings of being overlooked, undervalued, and marginalised. For someone already grappling with speech and language challenges and the accompanying social anxiety as a result of my difficulty, these moments can exacerbate existing insecurities, leaving me feeling diminished and disconnected from my peers. The impact of these experiences underscores the importance of fostering an inclusive workplace culture where all voices are heard and respected, regardless of communication abilities.
Despite these obstacles, I refuse to let my hidden disability define me or dictate my professional life. Instead, I’ve learned to embrace my differences and advocate for accommodations that allow me to thrive in the workplace. Whether it is requesting additional time to process information or utilising written communication as a supplement to verbal dialogue, I’ve found ways to adapt and excel in my role. Moreover, I’ve come to realise that my unique perspective and communication style offer invaluable contributions to the workplace. While others may excel in verbal eloquence, I bring a depth of introspection and thoughtfulness that enriches team dynamics and problem-solving processes. My ability to super focus means that I can diligently get tasks done to a high standard, as I am completely absorbed in the task at hand once I am familiar with the process. I can easily block out any other distractions around me and completely engage to the extent that I sometimes don’t hear people sitting in close proximity to me and they have to repeat something! By embracing diversity in all its forms and recognising the powerful qualities the quieter colleagues bring to a team, organisations can harness the collective strengths of their employees and foster a culture of inclusivity and acceptance.
Living with a severe neurological speech disorder does not impact on my intelligence. It also does NOT mean that I have nothing to say. All it means is that I struggle to get the thoughts and ideas in my head out verbally.
These challenges, as well as my debilitating visual impairment (which you can read about here https://immies.home.blog/2024/01/27/long-term-life-impacts-of-having-a-visual-impairment/?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR1RxypZpi5UWb3Bt_E0MCCFL9uGtqHKYVaKdEq6IHKnIMqHqOTxa7D6d5s_aem_ARtPHtu31vkBXKJNAOV6uTZalOSpYIHP0gdrhaAQUyo0gKuo8ng2EXKFlIIGXlgUqCehahsr6RywxKdOwadI6QEe) make work a lot harder, more overwhelming and more tiring for me to navigate. All I require from others is understanding and patience, because what I say matters and so does my voice. Despite my social anxiety and speech difficulty, I have a lot to contribute and I want to be spoken to, included and treated equally like any other colleague.
Beyond my quiet exterior, I have lots of things to say. Please give me a little time, patience and understanding, and slowly more of my personality will show.
A brilliant article that I relate to completely: ‘5 things I wish employers knew about dyspraxia’:
Imogen’s blog 