13/04/2026
I was diagnosed as a child with Selective Mutism, an experience that shaped my early relationship with language, safety, and expression in the world. While it is often assumed that this is something that naturally resolves in childhood, my experience has shown me that its imprint can continue quietly into adulthood, especially within the nervous system and the ways it responds to certain environments.
Over time, I have grown in my ability to communicate outwardly. I have found ways to express my inner world and to bring my voice into spaces where, at one time, it felt out of reach. Even so, I still notice that in particular situations often where there is perceived expectation, or emotional pressure my nervous system can shift quite suddenly.
In those moments, spoken language may become inaccessible, not as a choice, but as a protective response held within the body.
Alongside this, I have learned that communication does not exist in one form alone. There are times when I adapt by turning toward other ways of expressing myself, including writing, gesture, stillness, and movement. These have become important bridges for me, especially in moments where speech is not available when words cannot be spoken aloud.
On one occasion, I asked for support and understanding around different communication needs within an event setting. I was told that no such support existed. While difficult to hear, this experience highlighted something important. These forms of communication are still not always recognised or held within adult spaces in a consistent or informed way.
In reality, organisations such as Selective Mutism Information & Research Association exist to provide education, awareness, and support around selective mutism across all ages.
Their work affirms that this is not something limited to childhood, but an experience that can continue to shape how a person communicates throughout their life.
What I have come to understand most deeply is that silence is not absence. It is often a state of protection within the nervous system a moment where the body prioritises safety over speech. When this is not recognised, it can be misunderstood as disconnection, when in truth it is another form of communication entirely.
My own journey has been one of slowly and gently finding my voice again, not only through spoken language, but through writing and other forms of expression that feel safe & grounded. It has shown me that my voice does not disappear instead it simply moves into different pathways depending on how safe I feel in a given space.
This is why I now feel called to create and hold writing workshops for people who are non-verbal or living with selective mutism. These spaces will be centred around written expression as a way of communication, inclusion, and gentle nervous system regulation. The intention is to offer a place where people can feel safe enough to express themselves without pressure to speak, and to rediscover a sense of voice through words on the page.
These workshops will be rooted in the understanding that every person still has a voice.
Writing can become a bridge helping to calm the nervous system, supporting self expression, and gently reinforcing the truth that communication is always possible in some form.
Even in silence, I am still communicating without spoken words, my voice remains present. I hold this same truth for others that their voice is never lost, only waiting to be met in a way that feels safe enough to emerge.
Cheryl x
