“Why are you so quiet?” A question that I have been asked more times than I can count throughout my life, a question that I have always found difficult to answer.
At around age 4 I was diagnosed with a severe anxiety disorder known as Selective Mutism. I couldn’t speak to anyone older than me apart from my parents and my grandparents on my mum’s side. I was loud and chatty at home, but the moment I stepped outside my heart began to race.
Selective Mutism can be hard to understand. You are not just “shy” or “quiet”, your brain is fighting you every time you try to get a word out. There is no rationalising it, you are at war with yourself 24/7. It wasn’t that I just didn’t want to speak, it would’ve made my life a lot easier if I could, every time I was expected to speak to anyone older than me, my freeze response kicked in. All I felt was panic, and all I wanted to do is run away, but all I could do was stand there and stare at the floor.
This made my nursery and school life very difficult. I have always loved learning, and have always been excited to engage in topics that I’m interested in. I always put my hand up to answer questions I knew the answer to, and I even took part in the Christmas plays every year, but all I could ever do was mouth the words or produce a quiet whisper. I couldn’t ask questions, if I didn’t understand something I just had to pretend like I did, because that felt better than the embarrassment I felt when I tried to communicate my confusion. However, the second I was in the playground and knew that the teachers couldn’t hear me, away I went laughing and shouting with my friends.
As a child, I did not understand myself, and neither did any of the children around me. This is when the questions started. “Why are you so quiet?” “Why can’t you speak in class?” I didn’t know. No one had ever tried to explain it to me, any time I asked about it, it often just got passed off as “You’re just shy”. So that’s what I told them, but inside I knew it was more than that. This really destroyed my self-confidence, I often questioned why I was so different, and why I couldn’t just speak normally like everyone else.
This carried on until I was around 13 years old. The reason why it stopped is quite unfortunate, I was so scared of getting bullied when I moved to secondary school that I forced myself to talk. It felt easier at that time, since I was going to be meeting lots of people who didn’t know me, so they wouldn’t react to me talking or make a big deal out of it. I made some great friends which was a blessing, and although I wasn’t selectively mute anymore, the social anxiety still followed me. I stopped answering questions almost all together, didn’t speak to anyone I didn’t know, and never asked for help when I needed it. Every single parent’s evening I got the exact same feedback “Abbie is doing well, but she needs to engage more in class.” I hated every minute of school, as it was just a reminder of how I didn’t fit in.
Later down the line I went to Sixth Form, unfortunately this didn’t last long. I had a breakdown halfway through the first year, my mum pulled me out because she could see how much it was affecting me. A few months after this, Covid 19 happened. I wasn’t going to school, I didn’t have a job, and I lost contact with most of my friends. I developed agoraphobia during this time, leaving the house felt like climbing a mountain, it took me a very long time to ease myself back into everyday life.
Once covid was over, I finally began listening to myself. I began researching the way I was feeling and worked on understanding myself. In 2023 I spoke out loud to my dad’s side of the family for the very first time.
Fast forward to now, 2026, 20 years after my initial diagnosis of Selective Mutism. I have an incredible friend group, I have been an Assistant Manager, I’m in university studying Psychology with the goal of becoming a therapist. I want to be an example for others, to show that the future is always brighter, even when you are dragging the weight of a mental health disorder behind you. I still struggle with anxiety every day, but I am finding ways to cope and to thrive.
So, the answer to “Why are you so quiet?” is a very long story. But that story is who I am, and to be honest, I think I prefer it this way.
