Real Stories

I had read an article about a child with selective mutism who didn't call for help while drowning in a pool.

At the same time, earthquakes were happening in Türkiye, and we were anxiously following the news of thousands being rescued from under the rubble.

My daughter and all children with selective mutism came to my mind.

I placed a whistle by my daughter's bedside and taught her through play how to use it in emergencies.

We must hear the silent screams of children with selective mutism in emergencies.

My daughter was going to have a blood test.

As the nurse prepared, my daughter locked her lips with her teeth. She was holding herself back from crying out loud, with only tears rolling down silently.

The nurse said, "What a brave and well-behaved child, waiting so quietly."

But as a mother, I would have given the world to hear her scream and cry right there.

We left the clinic and got in the car. The moment we got in, she burst into tears.

My daughter had gone through a serious autoimmune disease and spent a long time in the hospital.

She had been in a lot of pain during that time.

She had started to hesitate even whispering to us in front of the doctors.

Despite being treated at a very attentive, large hospital, many doctors didn't know about selective mutism.

We kept explaining our daughter's SM diagnosis to each new doctor.

We needed to get a vision test to check if her illness had damaged her optic nerves.

She needed to identify pictures, numbers, and colors for the test.

But it was impossible for her to speak to the technician.

I explained her SM diagnosis and asked the technician if she could whisper the answers to me, and I could relay them.

The technician said there wasn't enough time and

wrote "Not suitable for vision testing," then called the next patient.

During our therapy journey, I had read a message from a mother whose child had overcome selective mutism.

It gave me so much hope.

I hope mothers going through this process will read what I'm writing.

After a long and difficult journey, we too have reached a point where we can leave the impact of selective mutism behind us.

No matter how long and hard the process is, don't lose hope and don't give up,

selective mutism can be treated with the right support, patience, and time.

The most common thing we hear when entering a new environment:

"Cat got your tongue?",

"Can't you talk?"

Even though these are considered harmless jokes made to children,

the wounds they open in a child's heart and self-esteem go unnoticed because awareness is so low.

Our children do have a voice,

they can speak, but they are selective about the settings and people they speak with.

Please, let's raise awareness about this.

Otherwise, as a mother, having to explain the situation every time while trying not to further humiliate your child is not easy at all.

My son's greatest luck was always having very caring and supportive teachers.

Despite that, he had several bathroom accidents at school.

He would raise his hand silently and try to explain with gestures instead of speaking up to go to the bathroom.

When the teacher noticed his quietly raised hand too late, he couldn't make it in time.

The problem isn't just not speaking,

it's also protecting their self-esteem in situations that arise as a result of not speaking.

Due to the lack of awareness, you also have to deal with feedback from close family members.

"The child is just shy, they'll grow out of it.

But the mother keeps overreacting and taking them to therapy."

I want everyone to hear this:

"I'm not taking my child to therapy because I'm an anxious, overprotective mother who's making a big deal out of them not speaking.

I'm taking them so they can overcome their anxiety disorder with the help of professionals.

Taking them to therapy doesn't make me or my child anxious."

We had gone to a shopping mall as a family.

While we were leaving our bags at the security scanner, my daughter had slipped past the detector gate.

She would usually wait by the side for us, but that day, in her excitement, she did something she'd never done before — she took the escalator up to the next floor.

When I turned around after picking up our things, she was gone.

We started calling her name and searching.

I was calling out from where I stood in panic, while my husband started searching the floor.

People around us tried to help as well.

Then suddenly, I looked up.

She was standing right by the escalator on the upper floor, watching me with worried eyes.

I rushed up and hugged her. "Mom, I'm sorry I upset you."

She whispered in my ear.

The people who witnessed the scene told my daughter, "Why didn't you just say 'I'm here'..."

Even though she was only 10 steps away, even though she could see me searching for her in tears, even though she didn't want to upset me — she couldn't call out "Mom, I'm here."

That's selective mutism.

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