My Speech Journey (Journey To Me)

My Speech (Journey To Me)

I will be blunt because there is no real way of talking about my speech journey without doing so. I have a speech impediment, where d’s and t’s don’t always come out right or at all. This is especially true when d’s and t’s are in the middle of a word and I haven’t said that word a lot or at all.

Growing up I hated that it was called an impediment. It wasn’t because of any negative experience I’ve had with having a speech impediment. I hated it because I blurred the syllables together. I couldn’t say what I had well.

After years of speech therapy, theater, and practice, friends and most people have said they don’t notice it. It can now be hidden and I can speak to be understood now.

Still, I can hear it. I may not consciously be aware of it with every word I say, but I know it is still there in the shadows. It especially yells at me when I listen to a recording or when I’m speaking through a microphone.

I repeat the words my friends tell me, “It’s just how I sound. It’s just how I talk.” I remind myself it makes me unique and those who matter don’t fault me for it.

How I get over it.

For a time I cringed my way through editing videos of where I am speaking, whether it was monologues, tips, or improv videos. I forced myself to get comfortable with my voice. It did help me become more comfortable with my voice and accept it.

Eventually the videos slowed to a stop. The improved self-esteem for my speech was only a bi-product and my goals that were the real focus of the videos were not in the foreground of my motivation.

I gave little thought to my voice or speech for a while. It was not interfering with my life and it didn’t seem like an issue. I could listen to my voice without cringing now and everyone could understand me. Part of my thought that the impediment was behind me. It was something I had not have.  It felt as though the struggle with my impediment was over or a tiny pebble in the shadows of a far corner of my mind.

The funny thing with the mind is if you shine a light on a pebble it can grow. Even the slightest connection to it can create a boulder under the right circumstances. The pebble becomes a hurdle, which opens wounds that should have been healed.

I’m now facing my issues again.

Partly from stress and partly because a light was shined on my speech, I now had to face my speech impediment again. Even though the focus on my speech had nothing to do with the impediment, I saw my insecurities surrounding it.

I now have to figure out why the pain of not speaking exactly like everyone else still remains and threatens to come out at the slightest reference. Why does anything negative relating to speech or talking bring me to tears?

On the surface, it appears that the reasons are easily seen. I want to be viewed as smart, but I must first sound intelligent. If  I’m fumbling over words, stuttering, and finding replacements that I can say my IQ appears to drop.

I do not want what I view as my weakness and flaw hold me back. When it does I feel all the times its held me back. I am reminded of going to speech classes, being taken out of regular classes to go to a special speech therapy class, and feeling the label of “different” on me when it was not my choice.

Labels and the Past

Even now when I gladly wear “unique” and “different” as a proud badge, being different in speech hurts. It transports me back to being a child who did not ask for the label or want it.

I always felt loved and do not remember anyone teasing me about my impediment. They would tease me and bully me for other reasons, but never for how I spoke.

I do not want to blame my short coming or not getting things in life on my speech impediment. Hardly anyone notices now and if they do they say it doesn’t change their view of me. However, when it’s noticed it changes my view of myself. I’m reminded of the shy little girl. I find my shell again and must fight the urge to get back in it. I do fight though and write instead of crawling into my safe shell.

When the time is right I will explore why my speech impediment still hurts so badly when it is in the light. It is part of me and should not hurt me, yet it still does.

For now I will again work on tongue twisters and vocal exercises to overcome my flaws. I will become comfortable with my voice once again. I will remind myself that I’m my own success person. I’m strong and I am loved.

The relationship with my speech is a journey that I may stumble along, but I’m at least making progress and discovering more sides of who I am.

Want More?

I have more stories that shows how I became who I am. They are in the Journey to Me series. I also have stories specifically about God and of course I wrote a book about my views and experiences with Love called To Love.

My Heart (a song)

My Heart (a song)

Here’s my heart
please don’t break it
It’s all I have
even though I didn’t make it

It was made
by the ones who love it
It was made
by the ones who tore it
It is made
by the smiles you give it
It is made
by the tears that heal it

So, here’s my heart
please don’t break it
It’s all I have
even though I didn’t make it

It’s built by
the walls of protection
It’s built by
the gates of trusting
It’s made by
fear of more rejection
It’s made bu
acts of affection.

So, here’s my heart
please don’t break it
It’s all I have
even though I didn’t make it

Thank you for reading this song. I hope you enjoyed it. 

Want More?

If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.

Left On The Bus (Journey To Me)

Left On The Bus  short story

On this journey, I must look at where I’ve been and the stories that shaped my life. I believe it is important to look in the rearview mirror every so often to see the path you are on a little clearer. The first story I’m reflecting on while on this journey of self-discovery happened when I was a child. It was when I was left on a school bus.

When I was 5 I would ride the bus to kindergarten. One day the bus driver dropped all the kids off at school but did not check the seats. She left the school and parked the bus in her normal bus parking lot, but was in a rush. She had to take her grandson to the doctors or meet him at the hospital. Again she did not check the seats on the bus.

I stress this point, because little 5 year old me was asleep in one of the seats. At that time I could sleep anywhere and apparently through anything.

When I woke

I snapped to consciousness in an empty bus parked in an unfamiliar location. I still remember the location. It was a packed dirt parking lot filled with buses somewhat close to the town’s blue water tower. It was almost a sky blue and looked like a mechanical ellipsoid.

After leaving the bus I made it to the road. I did not know where to go. I was only 5 and did not know where I was.

The only thing that I could do was sit on the curb and cry. I’m not sure how long after my tears started that a lady, in what I remember as, a brown boxy sedan pulled up. I only remember that she did and offered me a ride to the police station.

At first I did not want to go with this stranger, but she seemed nice and there were car seats in the back of her car. To 5 year old me that meant she was a mom and safe.

She did bring me to the police station.

I cannot tell you what questions were asked once I was there. I’m not sure many people could understand me well, since I had a speech impediment. That did not inhibit them in finding where I belonged.

Soon I was asked if I wanted to ride in the sergeant’s car or a cruiser. After they explained the difference I picked one. I cannot remember which one I actually picked. I didn’t really care. My only goal was to be somewhere familiar.

The police officer brought back to school where I believe my mom picked me up.

From that day on I have been a lighter sleeper, especially while in a moving vehicle.

Want More?

I have more stories that shows how I became who I am. They are in the Journey to Me series. I also have stories specifically about God and of course I wrote a book about my views and experiences with Love called To Love.

I Can’t Lie Down (a song)

I can't lie down

You wonder and you ask me
Does your hope fly up in the sky?
Do you need your dreams to hide from reality?
Can you stop now from chasing your wants?

You see
I could give up and I could lie down.
I could turn away if you showed me how.
I would watch t.v. or read the whole night long
my time would be only all mine.

Yes,
I could give up and I could lie down
I could turn away if you showed me how
My nights would be free, my weekends filled with sleep.
And Alcohol, well it would be my best friend.

I really could give up and I could lie down
I could turn away. Please showed me how.
Life would be much easier, easier for me.
Easier to catch a breath, easier to do anything,
but that’s not me.
That cannot be me.
I am my dreams, not this reality.

I guess
I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.

I will paint my thoughts and write what’s in my heart.
My time will belong to my dreams.

I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.

My nights will be filled, my weekends hugged by hope.
And I will dance where my dream may go.

Because
I can’t give up and I can’t lie down.
I can’t turn away, I simply don’t know how.
I have to stand up and I have to fight.
Have to stay my path, that only seems right.

I don’t typically write songs as you may know, so getting a finished song done is tricky for me. I believe the words are almost there, which is why I’m sharing them with you. I am still working on the tune and notes. 

Please let me know what you think of it. Any and all feedback is welcomed.

 

Want More?

If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.

Dreams and Goals (Journey To Me)

Dreams and Goals

My dreams and goals seem crazy to me at times. They are so grand and lofty. They almost seem impossible. Yet, every time I attempt to downsize my dreams it does not work. Even if I am able to shrink them for a time, they will grow.

I want to say my dreams grow like weeds, but they are much more beautiful than your common weed. They are more like wild flowers, growing wherever and however they like, but doing so rather beautifully.

They are currently blossoming with the goal of supporting myself as an author and artist, who can then work on acting again. I want to be known for these three things. I can see myself achieving this and I am working towards these goals, that is why I call it a goal and not a dream. Dreams are just goals without a plan. I believe Dave Ramsey said something along those lines and I believe it is true.

My current dream includes marrying a musically talent actor, having 2 kids with him, and building a life with him. In my dream, I’m producing t.v. shows and acting in movies. Also, I want to be able to live off of 10% of my income and give the rest to God’s work and charities. I have no actual plans or steps in achieving any of these dreams. Perhaps one day when I am supporting myself as an author, artist, and actress, I will then be able to plan for my dreams.

I do want to mention that I don’t just want a lot of money, but I want to be able to make a big difference in the lives of others in a notable, positive way.

Where I am sitting right now these dreams and goals are large and scary, but they are mine. I am happy with always reaching for more, even though it is frustrating or a real struggle sometimes. I think I’ll stop trying to downsize my dreams, instead I’ll upgrade my work habits.

Want More?

I have more stories that shows how I became who I am. They are in the Journey to Me series. I also have stories specifically about God and of course I wrote a book about my views and experiences with Love called To Love.

2017’s Pen Poem

Tiffany Joy Pen Poem

The twirling pen yearns.
It yearns to kiss the paper again;
like a caged bird who desires to fly free.
It sees the unstrung violin;
the beautiful instrument that can only sigh.

Yes, instead of releasing it’s ink,
as it is meant to,
my pen twirls and whirls.
It dance through my fingers,
the same pattern repeats.
It yearns to kiss its beloved paper once more.
Yet it only spins,
like the unstrung violin,
its purpose is unfulfilled.

Want More?

If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.

My Path (Journey To Me)

my path journey to me

Sometimes I feel like I should have already started a more creative life. I want to be further along in my creative career. This makes me feel like my life is passing me by. I forget to look at all the great stories I now have to pull from. I ignore the fact that each year, month, week, and day have shaped me into the unique artist that I am.

It frustrates me to see where I want to go and not be there. It is also frustrating not having a clear path laid out before me. If feels like I’m in Californian traffic during rush hour and I’m not even sure if my gps/ plan is actually correct. Perhaps there is a better path for me, or at least better steps that I can be taking.

If you want to be a doctor there is a clear plan. You go to college, then med school. Then I believe there is an internship or residence. After that you are a full on doctor. You apply to jobs, go on interviews and get a job.

If you want to be a lawyer, you go to law school, take the bar exam, and apply to jobs. Then you are a lawyer.

Being a professional artist is a bit different. You can go to school, but you don’t have to. Some people apply to jobs or get freelance jobs, but other do not go that route. Some will work on finding commission jobs, others will not take commissions.

You basically do what fits you and your art the best, but it takes time to figure that out. Of course, more and more I believe a lot of life is just like that. You need to figure out what works best for you and your life.

Sometimes it’s learning from others that will help you down your path in life. Other times it’s trial and error.

I think as long as you are moving towards your life goals, no matter how slow or sloppily, you are still going down your path and that is a good thing. This is one thing I need to remind myself when I think I’m going to slow or not seeing enough progress.

Want More?

If you would like to read more about my Journey To Me there is a full series on the topic. I also have more portfolio writing available too. If you want to get to know me better you can do so on Instagram , Twitter, or Facebook.

Who Am I? (Journey To Me)

Who is Tiffany Joy

Welcome to a journey I am taking to answer the question “Who is Tiffany Joy?” I’ll show you who I am and how I became this person mostly through stories. This is a series of blog posts filled with self-reflection and stories of my past.

This journey started with me asking if the person I’ve become is someone I want to be. Can I be a better version of myself? If I can what would that look like? Also, can I be happy with who I am and still desire to be a better me, whatever I define ‘better’ as?

Before I can really think about becoming a better version of myself I first have to define  where I am. How do I see myself. Just like getting directions on your gps for a vacation, I need to know where I am starting on this journey.

I am a 30 year old single female Chris follower, who is also a writer, painter, and aspiring actress.

I identify as an actress and theater person, even though I haven’t been on a stage for a long time or worked on a show in years. Still, I see myself as a theater person. There is a yearning to be noticed as an actress. My desire is to learn and embody a new character. I want to learn about myself through a fictional character, like seeing through a different pair of eyes.

It brings me happiness when someone refers to me as a writer, artist or creative person. I feel love when people notice me for these things. Being creative is a passion of mine and part of who I am. When you notice my creativity you are noticing me.

It is easy for me to think little of myself and my art, since I don’t make a living off of it yet. People could very easily say it is just a hobby. I also feel like I keep most of my art to myself. At the very least I don’t promote it as much as I should. It just goes on the internet and then it is forgotten. Some paintings just go on my wall where only I can see them.

Promoting and selling my artwork is one area I would like to improve on. I am taking steps for improving my online art life. Currently, I am posting more on my Instagram. Also, I am planning on setting up a society6 shop to sell prints of my paintings and even some digital pieces I’ve been working on. I have also been toying with the idea of selling the original paintings on eBay or Etsy, again. We shall see about that though. My main focus will be getting something on society6.

No matter what I will still create. I am an artist; that is who I am. That is where I will start this journey to understanding myself better.

Want More?

I have more stories that shows how I became who I am. They are in the Journey to Me series. I also have stories specifically about God and of course I wrote a book about my views and experiences with Love called To Love.

Lunch Time Creativity Poem

Lunch Time Creativity Poem

Quietness fills the air
as my mind relaxes;
an eerie sensation.
My mind draws a blank,
wanting to be wrapped up
with the hug of a blanket.
I yearn to sleep the day away,
instead of doing work, I dread.
Still, if sleep was an option
my mind would not allow it.

Want More?

If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.

What Is Home? A Poem

What Is Home? A Poem

Home is where the heart is
or is home where a heart is?
How do you know where a heart lives?
A home may be messy.
It may be clean.
Loud noises may prevail,
or a simple quiet hum.
The smell of cooking
paint or farm animals
live among the walls of a home.

So what is a home?
Memories are made within the wall
and pictures display the heart’s love.
Styles along with dishware
are mixed and matched;
meaning hearts are mingling,
meaning that the home has lasted.
Loved is displayed
with knick-knacks
and photos of family
leaving lingering love in the air.

Want More?

If you would like to read more of my poetry please take a look at my portfolio. You can also watch a few of my poetry readings.