"Before I understood what a speech impediment was, I only knew that speaking sometimes felt different for me than it did for other children.

Words that came easily to others would sometimes get stuck somewhere between my mind and my mouth. My mother noticed it too. Concerned and wanting to help, she went to my elementary school to ask whether there were any resources available to help me.

That conversation eventually led to the beginning of speech therapy. At the time, I did not realize how much that decision would shape my childhood. But one day in the third grade at Briargate Elementary School, standing in front of my classmates during a third grade spelling bee, I would realize just how different my voice sounded to the world around me.

Standing in front of my classmates, the word I was given to spell was peanut. I knew exactly how to spell it. P-E-A-N-U-T. But when I stood in front of my classmates, the first letter refused to come out.

“P.” “P.” “P.” I strained and strained, trying to force the sound past my lips—but nothing came out. The room grew quiet.

My heart began beating so loudly that it felt like everyone in the room could hear it. Then the laughter started. Some kids giggled, while others whispered to each other, and I stood there frozen, trying to get the word out.  The teacher just stared at me, not knowing what to do. I could feel every pair of eyes on me as I struggled to speak. Finally, after what felt like forever, the teacher told me to sit down. In that moment, I realized that something about the way I spoke was different."