The hidden struggles within everyone: Living with selective mutism

For a long time, my own mother couldn't understand why my daughters stayed silent when we visited. It wasn't rudeness - they simply struggled to speak.

You see, they have selective mutism.

Selective Mutism

I discovered it by accident. There was a story on the local papers chronicling someone's struggle with it.

Many of the signs were familiar, so we immediately asked to meet with my younger girl's kindergarten teacher. The teacher confirmed, yes, she's never spoken in class.

It seemed impossible. At home, she would:

• Chatter non-stop at times.
• Sing aloud when happy.
• Shout and laugh loudly.

But outside? Complete silence. Only whispering to us when nobody could possibly overhear.

A struggle with silence

Selective mutism is a childhood anxiety disorder marked by a persistent inability to speak in specific social situations, despite speaking comfortably in others (e.g. at home).

Affected individuals tend to restrict speech to "approved" people, experiencing intense fear, freezing, or shutdown when interacting with "non-approved" individuals.

It all stems from a crippling anxiety. And attempting to "force" or cajole them to speak simply ingrains the silence deeper.

We finally figured out things like:

• Why she wouldn't drink water at kindergarten - so she won't have to ask for permission to go to the toilet during school hours.
• Why she'll squirm and have a "deer frozen in headlights" look when we asked her to greet friends or even say a simple "thank you."
• Why she'll melt down crying or devolve into hour-long tantrums when she did anything that that drew attention from others, such as knock over a cup.

A road less travelled

Thankfully, we discovered it early and were able to take steps to intervene. I vividly remember the first trip to a psychologist.

We set the stage:

• Brought her pet hamsters.
• Had her sister follow.
• Played some games.

The last game required her to say "Snap" to win. Softly, hesitantly, she did it.

It was the first time we saw her vocalise in front of a stranger. After all, she never even spoke to a family friend we met regularly for meals.

Such a minor step. Such a profound victory. Crucially, we realised there was a science to it.

Look beyond the surface

Of course, there was a lot more we did and continue to do to this day.

But my experiences taught me that everyone carries battles we cannot see. What looks like rudeness, aloofness, or even defiance, might be the face of someone fighting a quiet, unseen struggle.

Let's be slower to judge, and quicker to show kindness.