They couldn’t believe I was going to take the plunge and talk about my past

T

he first time I spoke up about my selective mutism was in my last year of seminary. I was chosen to speak on a panel during the overnight trip at the end of the year. I begged and pleaded with the coordinator of the trip to choose another girl, someone who would be more than happy to be a panelist. She wouldn’t hear of it. I was doomed.

The theme was “Overcoming a Nisayon.” I didn’t feel like sharing anything personal with a bunch of people. Speaking in front of a crowd was a challenge of its own and it was taking up all the available space in my brain.

The night before the trip arrived and I still hadn’t a clue what I was going to say at the panel. Then the idea came to me. It was a nisayon for me to speak up, so why not be honest about it? I opened a Word document on my laptop and began typing.

Surprisingly, the page filled up quicker than I expected. I shared it with my parents. They were very excited. They couldn’t believe I was going to take the plunge and talk about my past.