 About the Author:
Zeb White, M.S., CCC-SLP, is a speech-language pathologist and founder of Austin Stuttering & Communication Therapy, a private practice serving adults who stutter across Texas. His work is shaped by years of clinical experience with people who stutter and by research examining their experiences, including self-disclosure. Zeb has published research in the American Journal of Speech-Language Pathology and the Journal of Speech, Language, and Hearing Research. His clinical interests include self-disclosure, avoidance, counseling, self-advocacy, and helping people who stutter develop approaches to communication that feel personally meaningful. |
Partway through a professional talk, one participant hit a long block. It lasted long enough that a woman in the audience leaned forward, concerned, and asked if he was okay, if something was wrong. Nothing was wrong. He was stuttering. When he told me about it later, he said that was the moment he realized he wanted a different opening line next time, one that told people what was actually happening before they had to guess.
That story is one of many I heard while interviewing adults who stutter about self-disclosure—when they told people they stuttered, why they chose to, how it landed, and how their approach changed over time. Those conversations became the basis of a study that eventually took shape as Self-Disclosure Experiences of Adults Who Stutter: An Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis (Young et al., 2022). They also stayed with me after the study ended. In the years since, versions of that realization have surfaced again and again in my clinical work.
At the time, I was an early-career speech-language pathologist, and I already believed disclosure could be valuable. The interviews did not change my mind so much as deepen my understanding. Listening to people describe disclosure in their own lives made it feel much more complicated and personal than it had seemed as a clinical concept on a page.
I’m writing from the perspective of a speech-language pathologist who does not stutter. I’ve never had to decide whether to tell a coworker, a date, a teacher, an interviewer, or a stranger that I do. My role in those interviews was to ask questions, listen, and help make sense of what participants shared. I can’t describe what disclosure feels like from lived experience. What I can describe is how listening closely to people who stutter changed the way I think about it.
One question has stayed with me since: Who is disclosure for?
Much of the earlier research on stuttering disclosure approached it from the listener’s side: Does disclosure change how listeners perceive a person who stutters? It’s a legitimate question, because stigma and listener reactions matter. Our study asked a different question: What is disclosure like for the person who stutters? Four themes emerged: cognitive relief, self-empowerment, social connection, and personalization. The first three are compelling. Personalization is the one I keep coming back to.
Clinicians are trained to value evidence-based practice, but it can be an easy step from “research suggests this may help” to “this is what you should do.” Disclosure can start to look almost procedural: build a script, rehearse it, then use it in the real world. For someone who wants to disclose but feels anxious about it, that structure may be exactly what helps. But more than one person I talked to described an initial reaction closer to disbelief: You want me to tell people I stutter, after I’ve spent this long hiding it? Hearing reactions like that reminded me that disclosure is not just a technique. It is also a deeply personal choice.
There is no universal script. Several participants used the phrase “coming out” to describe it, not just informing someone but owning something out loud. One person may be direct; another may mention it in passing. One participant told me that his decision often depended on whether he expected to keep talking to the person. A brief exchange with someone he would never see again might not feel worth it. If he expected to speak with someone again, disclosure often did feel worthwhile, not because he owed anyone an explanation but because it could make future interactions easier.
That variability is why this year’s ISAD theme, “Shades of Stuttering—What’s Yours?” felt like the right theme to write toward. There are shades of disclosure, too, and their value isn’t found in a particular set of words or the “right” moment. It is in whether the choice feels like the person’s own.
I have also become less comfortable thinking of disclosure as the top rung of a therapeutic ladder, the confident version of managing stuttering that someone eventually works up to. Hierarchies can be useful, especially for gradually approaching situations someone has come to fear or avoid. But once disclosure becomes an endpoint that signals confidence or acceptance, it can start to feel like an obligation. Someone who does not want to disclose may then seem as though they are avoiding something or simply are not ready yet. I don’t think that is always a fair conclusion.
I think of it differently now: disclosure as an option on a menu, not a rung on a ladder. Some people use it frequently. Others use it selectively, or try it and decide it isn’t right for that situation or that day. Having the option available does not mean someone has to use it.
Which brings me back to the question: Who is disclosure for? If one of our strongest arguments for teaching disclosure is that listeners tend to respond better afterward, it is worth considering what responsibility that places on the speaker. Are we asking someone to explain themselves so a listener feels less uncertain? Are we measuring success largely by someone else’s reaction?
Listener response isn’t irrelevant. Disclosure can reduce confusion, build understanding, and create connection. But the interviews pushed me to keep the speaker at the center of the question. Did disclosure lighten the mental load of the interaction? Did it give someone more ownership of what was happening? Did it help them connect with another person? Did they actually want to disclose in that moment at all?
None of this means clinicians should sit back and never encourage or challenge. Person-centered care does not mean passive care. Someone might genuinely want to try disclosing but feel afraid. A clinician can help by introducing the evidence, brainstorming possibilities, practicing, and encouraging someone to experiment if they want to. To me, the important distinction is between helping someone explore a choice and deciding, on their behalf, what their relationship with stuttering needs to look like.
That is probably what personalization has taught me most. It isn’t a small adjustment made after someone learns the “correct” way to disclose. It is the whole process. The words, the timing, the purpose, and even the choice of whether to disclose at all—those belong to the person who stutters.
One participant in our study described what disclosure had done for him in a way I still think about. He said it changed his life—that for years he had felt like a passenger in a car he was making the payments on, and now he was finally the one driving.
I don’t think disclosure works that way for everyone, and it shouldn’t have to. But whatever shade it takes—direct or subtle, frequent or rare, or even choosing not to disclose—it only means something if it’s the person’s own hand on the wheel.
Reference
Young, M. M., Byrd, C. T., Gabel, R., & White, A. Z. (2022). Self-disclosure experiences of adults who stutter: An interpretative phenomenological analysis. American Journal of Speech-Language Pathology, 31(5), 2045–2060. https://doi.org/10.1044/2022_AJSLP-22-00048
Welcome, and thanks for reading! I’m really grateful to be part of this year’s conference. Please feel free to leave any questions, comments, or reflections below – I’m looking forward to participating in the conversation.
Hi Zeb,
I really enjoyed getting to read your paper! I am currently in graduate school to become a speech language pathologist and am working with my first stuttering client. I am also taking a stuttering course this semester. Much of what you mentioned in your paper are things that our professor has been talking to us about, especially relating to disclosure. Disclosure to others is something that my client and I are working on this semester, and he has explained to me that this aspect of communication has really helped him to form deeper connections with others. I really enjoyed reading about what one of your participants said when they stated “that for years he had felt like a passenger in a car he was making the payments on, and now he was finally the one driving.” When someone is able to self disclose to others about their stutter, this provides them with a new aspect of control. When working with clients who stutter and want to begin disclosing this, how do you work with them to alleviate that fear?
Thanks so much for reading and for the thoughtful question! It’s great to hear that you’re learning about stuttering both through your coursework and directly from the client you’re supporting. What your client said about disclosure helping people form deeper connections really resonates.
For someone who wants to disclose but feels afraid, I like exposing them to lots of different examples: videos of people who stutter, podcasts like StutterTalk, and opportunities to connect with other people who stutter through groups like the NSA. The Blank Center for Stuttering’s YouTube channel is one resource I especially like because many of the videos include examples of people self-disclosing at the beginning of a conversation or presentation. From there, we can brainstorm and practice different approaches. I also like helping clients think through what they actually want disclosure to accomplish in a given situation, since that can shape both the wording and whether they want to disclose at all. Trying disclosure in situations the client chooses and then reflecting on what felt helpful or uncomfortable afterward can also help it become more familiar and manageable over time. Most importantly, I think our role is to offer whatever tools are useful in helping the client reach their own goals.
Zeb, I appreciate that you’re speaking to the importance of choice and personalization in our treatment approaches, and how we can guide individuals who stutter to consider how particular choices may serve them vs. how they may hinder them in everyday situations. Thank you for sharing!
Thank you for reading and for your thoughtful reflection, Ana Paula! I really appreciate how you put this, and it’s exciting to think about how, as SLPs, we have the chance to help people explore various choices while leaving room for each person’s journey to look different.
Hi Zeb, it was great to hear your perspective as an SLP. You bring up a valuable topic regarding shades of disclosure! I was especially intrigued by the question: “Does the person who stutters want to disclose their stutter?” As an undergraduate SLP student, I find that we often focus on how to help a PWS, with evidence-based strategies as our main focus; however, reading about the counseling side of fluency is instrumental for me as a future SLP. As a clinician, do you find that PWS’s perspectives on stuttering vary by cultural background, and do you encourage them differently based on that background?
Thanks for this question! It’s great that you’re already exploring counseling and the broader experience of stuttering as an undergraduate student. People bring their whole selves to therapy — their culture, family, values, past experiences, and ideas about communication — and all of those things can influence how they experience stuttering. I like that your instinct is to consider cultural background alongside those other parts of a person’s lived experience.
At the same time, I try not to assume what will help someone based on their culture or background. I ask a lot of questions to understand what comfortable and authentic communication looks like for that particular person, and that can guide how we talk about disclosure and other elements of therapy. In practice, that might mean asking how stuttering is viewed in their family or community, exploring when disclosure feels more or less comfortable, and learning what they hope disclosure would accomplish in particular situations.
Great post Zeb, as a PWS disclosure is such a tricky subject. It is such a personal choice of if and when, how and why, you do it. It also ties deeply I think to a person’s character. When I first started lecturing I did do a few fast disclosures because I felt that is may have been required. Usually something like “Hey I stutter. Please everyone laugh now and then never again.” But I soon realised that for me, in my situation, it was not required. It is not in my position description. So from that point on I never openly disclosed. Except at the occasional stuttering even where at times stuttering was a little frowned on. Sometime there was an undercurrent of that if you were not trying to control your speech then you were a bad example. Even now I currently present and lecture in China. I never disclose. How I speak has no relevance to the topic that I am addressing.
Grant, I really appreciate you sharing this perspective. I think your experience is such a good reminder that disclosure is not something a person who stutters “owes” anyone, even in professional settings. Sometimes the most personally meaningful choice is to disclose, and sometimes it’s simply to speak and let stuttering be there without explanation.
Hi Zeb,
What a great question to think about. I had a bad therapy experience, in my one attempt ever at participating in therapy (as an adult). I didn’t even last a year and found myself happy to walk away when I realized my needs weren’t being met and wouldn’t be in a program strictly focused on fluency shaping.
I didn’t know going in that I just needed someone to tell me it really was OK to stutter after spending 35+ years trying to hide it.
I also recall one or two of the graduate student clinicians talking with me about the hierarchy of goals and I remember feeling pissed off that the phrase “hierarchy of goals” was even shared with me. Not sure why that bothered me but it clearly did, as I remember it and this was over 20 years ago now.
I agree wholeheartedly with your conclusion that personalization needs to be at the forefront of any therapeutic alliance with someone who stutters, be that strictly mechanical speech therapy or mental health therapy or counseling that includes how or if stuttering is managed in one way or another.
Disclosure is highly personal. I’ve done it to alleviate my own anxiety before giving a speech or talking to people who don’t know that I stutter. Putting it out there right away lessens the stress of having to decide after or during a stuttering moment if I should say something.
So in those moments, I’d say disclosure was for me, not the listeners. But by default, the listeners were also given a “disclaimer” if you will, that I talk differently than the “average” person. So that probably killed two birds with one stone.
I really like how you describe that disclosure, or any technique (if we’re calling disclosure a technique) is not just a rung on a ladder. It’s the process that’s important- the whole process, whatever that entails.
It sounds like you’re really grounded in person centered care, and I appreciate hearing about that from a clinician.
Has anyone ever reported back that disclosure, even at their hand, was a failure? I’m curious!
Thanks for this great perspective.
Pam
Pam, I really appreciate everything you shared here. It’s disappointing when therapy reinforces the idea that stuttering has to be controlled or changed, especially when someone may just need to hear that it’s okay to stutter. I can also understand why the “hierarchy of goals” comments bothered you. That kind of framing can imply that a person needs to fit into a set clinician-created program, rather than centering therapy on the client’s own priorities, which are often much more nuanced.
Your own experience with disclosure also fits so well with the themes from our study. In this essay I focused on “personalization,” but the other three themes that emerged from the interviews were cognitive relief, self-empowerment, and social connection. People described disclosure as reducing some of the mental work around hiding or anticipating stuttering, helping them feel more ownership of the interaction, and often creating more genuine connection with the listener. Your example of disclosing before a speech or conversation to lessen the stress of the interaction is a great example of that.
To your question about failure – yes, I have definitely heard people describe disclosures that felt awkward, disappointing, or unhelpful. From what I’ve been told, disclosure tends to be less useful when someone is repeating a clinician-created script or disclosing because they feel like they “should.” I’ve also heard people describe disclosures that didn’t fit the situation very well. For example, a longer, more formal statement might feel useful before a professional talk, while something quicker or more lighthearted may feel more natural in a casual social setting. And some people have told me that apologetic disclosure (e.g., “I’m sorry, I stutter, so please bear with me”) actually adds pressure by reinforcing a sense that stuttering is something they need to apologize for.
All that said, when someone chooses to experiment with disclosure in different ways and situations, I’m encouraged by their efforts even when it doesn’t help in the way they hoped every time. Those experiences can still teach someone a lot about what feels authentic or meaningful, and can help them take more ownership of how they want to communicate.
So happy to find an article from you, Zeb! I appreciate your careful and nuanced approach (there is “no universal script” and avoiding the unintended message that disclosure is “obligatory”) as well as the way it has sparked so much insight from those with firsthand experience. I could imagine many people finding this thread and being helped for years to come.
Daniel, so good to hear from you! I’ve really enjoyed seeing the different perspectives people have brought to the conversation. Thanks so much for reading and for the kind words!
Hi Zeb,
Thanks so much for sharing this wonderful, layered article. It’s wonderful to read how you approach the person who stutters with all their feelings and thoughts about disclosure and explore options with them in a deep and meaningful way. I find your article an amazing example how SLT’s should get really close to that feeling of the client that stutters! Thank you for sharing!
Any (other then above) thought of exploring possible paths with clients who do not want to explore or try out self-disclosure?
Joeri, thank you so much for reading and for your question! I really liked what you said in your response to me on your own piece about asking, listening, and not assuming we already know what someone needs. I think that applies here too. If someone tells me they don’t want to explore disclosure, that is completely valid. I might be curious about what makes disclosure feel unhelpful or unnecessary for them, ask what they want communication to feel like instead, and go from there. That could mean exploring avoidance, anticipation, self-advocacy in other forms, or simply focusing on whatever goals feel most relevant to them at that point in their life.
One thing I’ve also found interesting is that, for some people, voluntary stuttering can serve a similar function to self-disclosure without requiring a direct “statement” about stuttering. Intentionally stuttering early in an interaction can sometimes communicate, in its own way, that stuttering is part of someone’s speech and doesn’t need to be hidden or explained. For someone who doesn’t want to use a disclosure statement, that might be a practical alternative. And if someone doesn’t find either disclosure or voluntary stuttering useful, therapy can simply focus on other goals that matter more to them.
Hi Zeb,
I enjoyed reading your article and learning about the nuances of self disclosure from the perspective of an SLP. I am a graduate student in speech language pathology, and we have been learning this semester in our stuttering course about self-disclosure and situations where it might be helpful for people who stutter. Your article expanded my understanding beyond this, in the fact that disclosure is a deeply personal decision, and that as clinicians, we should encourage and support clients to explore this choice themselves. As I think about my future as an SLP, I am wondering if you have any advice on how to approach the topic of self disclosure differently when working with pediatric vs. adult clients who stutter? Thank you!
Thanks for reading and for this question! It’s great that you’re already learning so much about stuttering as you prepare for your future as an SLP.
There is a lot in common in how we approach disclosure with children and adults, but the context can look different. With younger children, we often have the opportunity to help them build a strong foundation early. Hopefully, we can help them explore their stuttering, talk about it openly, and practice self-advocacy before years of negative reactions, avoidance, or stigma have had a chance to become deeply established. I often think about the “stuttering iceberg” analogy here. If stuttering can feel okay and safe to talk about from the beginning, some of those harder below-the-surface layers may be less likely to form in the first place.
With children, we’re also usually working with the environment around them, such as their parents, teachers, and other important people in their lives. I really like finding ways for the child to have an active role in that process. For example, a child might help educate their teacher or classmates about stuttering rather than having all of those conversations happen between adults around them. That can be a meaningful way to build self-advocacy and reinforce that they are the expert on their own experience.
With adults, disclosure may take more time to explore because they bring a longer history with stuttering and may need to figure out what feels authentic across very different contexts, such as work, relationships, presentations, interviews, or social situations. For someone who has spent years trying to hide or minimize their stuttering, disclosure can feel like asking them to do the opposite of what they have been doing up to this point. So, many adults understandably want to spend time exploring the “why” behind it and really understanding what it can look like in their own life. With children, the conversations may be more playful and matter-of-fact, while with adults there may be more unpacking and experimentation. In both cases, though, I think disclosure should stay flexible, personal, and connected to the person’s own goals.