When I was a kid, I was very shy and wouldn't talk much. If I spoke, I would speak only to one friend (the only boy in my school who shared my religion) and I wouldn't speak in English, despite being fluent. I was very scared to talk to people and would get detention to make sure I didn't have to go outside with other children. I would cry and beg to not have to go to school and would cry if my parents made me play outside with other children. I liked being by myself because, if I didn't say anything, it was easy to forget that I couldn't talk properly. The first thing. When I was 6, in my first year, my tooth fell out or, more accurately, I had anxiously yanked it straight from my mouth prematurely. There was blood dripping into my hands and onto the floor, staining the carpet, as I held this tooth and just stared at it. My teacher was talking about zoo animals. I weakly raised my hand and then, realising that I will have to talk, lowered it. I sat there with blood pooling in my hands, staring helplessly at the teacher, hoping she will notice me for even a second, because I couldn't bring myself to talk. It took her what felt like forever to notice me. She scolded me for just sitting there and not saying anything. When I was 7 or so, in my second year, we had a class assignment to present at the white board and be filmed to do this. I couldn't avoid to speak and I had to speak to everyone. I think mine was about sharks or dinosaurs or something like this. Anyways, I stand there, facing 30 or so other kids, and I feel straight away that nothing will come out. My lips start to twitch and my eyes shut, I feel like every muscle from shoulders up have contorted to stop any sound from escaping and my face was burning. Every word, I stutter. Every sentence, I pause. Every time I glance forwards, I see the looks of everybody feeling second-hand shame for me. This is a brief period, but then I lock eyes with one kid who did not like me. They laugh loudly and other kids join in with them. My teacher looks to them, then to me, with a face that says "what did you expect?". I cried. And another thing. My parents forced me to study martial arts. I was very short. My teacher, a kind but strict polish man, paired me every week with a girl called Szusza, rather than another boy. She was very tall and confident and had personally taken it upon herself to baby me, even though I was only one year younger than her. I remember I could never say anything much, even if I wanted to, and Szusza would tease me because all I could force out from my lips was several hundred "ssss-s-s-ssssorryy"s whenever I will hit her. She used to goad me "is this the only thing you know how to say?". But actually I think she just felt bad for me that I am this way. The reason this third story stands out to me is because, when I first started working, I will say to my boss this exact thing every time we interacted and he would always say to me "don't be sorry", "don't worry" and, when nobody else was around, we would have more normal conversation. He reminded me of Szusza because he was very hopeful that I will say something new and would expectantly watch me whenever I tried, with a really kind and patient face. When you think about it, not many people are this nice.