Thanks for sharing. (i pasted the two questions she answered on stuttering below) Q: Was it hard to connect with other students? You were just a kid then. I didn’t have friends, but I don’t think it was related to my age. I had a severe speech impediment. I was what they call a “covert stutterer.” I got very good at avoiding words and certain circumstances— if I couldn’t say “pencil,” I’d say, “something to write with,” or if I couldn’t say my name, I’d find a way to leave the room until introductions were done, and then come back. I had acquaintances—people I was friendly with, people I studied with—but I never let anyone get close to me, because I couldn’t admit to them my greatest source of shame, which was my stuttering. Q: You haven’t stuttered once. I was 22 or 23, in medical school, when I finally sought treatment. That was the first time in my life I opened up and let others see who I really am. For many years, I didn’t have a voice. I wasn’t comfortable with who I was. The first time I went to the speech therapist, I told her, “Look, give me all the exercises; I’ll do anything you want me to do. I’m really good at working. The one thing I can’t do is admit that I am a person who stutters.” It took me years to recognize that as a core part of my identity: I am an Asian woman; I guess I am an old millennial? I am an immigrant, I am a doctor, but I am also a person who stutters. I have patients coming to me now who have their own sources of fear and shame and stigma, and it drives me so much more.