<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<article schema_version="1.0" id="CC-003" source_sha256="1f30ef6277d3dbe7107e66b942e1b72c0d1c1b3ac3568d196adb7c053b1f1891"><title>How do I start a conversation when I stutter?</title><author>Craig Coffee</author><canonical_url>https://usedtostutter.com/starting-conversations-when-you-stutter</canonical_url><source_markdown xml:space="preserve"># How do I start a conversation when I stutter?

By [Craig Coffee](/craig-coffee)

I start with something in front of us. Something we can both see, something that just happened, or something we have in common. That is where I find the little spark for a conversation.

I used to stand there trying to work it all out. What was I going to say? What if they asked me something back? Which word would I get stuck on? The conversation hadn&apos;t even started, and I was already busy with all of it.

Learning to take an opening as it appeared took practice. I had to trust that I could find the next words when the next part happened.

## The man looking at cookies

In the grocery store, a man was looking at cookies. I said they looked good and that if they were on sale, I was in trouble. I told him I used to eat a lot of junk food, then asked, “how about you?”

His answer was that he was diabetic and couldn&apos;t touch it. I said, “But you still look at it. Smart.” Then I moved on.

The cookies were the thing we were both looking at. His answer gave me the next part. That little exchange was enough for me to show the practice: notice something, say something, hear the answer and respond.

## Something that happens right in front of you

At the market, a man threw something toward a trash can and missed. I saw it and said, “Hey, so that was pretty close man.” I commented in the moment, while we both knew what had happened.

Later, I opened another exchange with, “Go Gators man!” I&apos;m a Florida graduate and a Gator fan. We talked about the team, the coach and the recruiting class. That was something I actually enjoyed talking about, and it gave the conversation somewhere to go.

Those are different openings, but both came from being there and noticing. [The market recording](/talking-in-crowds-when-you-stutter) shows several of those small moments.

## What happened when I hesitated?

I developed what I called my 3 Second Rule. I could see an opportunity, start thinking about it, and very quickly make it harder for myself. The moment would turn into another round of planning and fear.

If I was going to approach, I wanted to take the opening. If I had already got caught in that hesitation, I would skip that person. That was a rule I used for my own practice. The point was the pattern I recognized in myself: waiting there could turn a spontaneous comment into something I had rehearsed and worried over.

## A question gives the other person room

One question I use is, “Are you from around here?” When someone tells me they&apos;re from somewhere else, I can ask, “How did you find your way here?” I want to be curious about the person and [follow what they give me](/following-up-in-a-conversation).

I have tried different ways of asking. You don&apos;t have to memorize my exact phrase. I want a question or comment that belongs in the situation, followed by enough attention to hear the answer.

In an ordinary conversation, I usually don&apos;t begin by introducing myself. That opening didn&apos;t work well for me. I start with what is happening, then let the conversation develop.

## Sometimes the comment stays a comment

In the bookstore, I commented on something happening near me and chose not to stay in the exchange. I also talked about a comment that didn&apos;t start a conversation. That was fine; it wasn&apos;t really one I wanted to start.

Some interactions are short. Others go somewhere. I don&apos;t get to know which one it will be before I speak. That uncertainty was something I had to practice being around.

I blocked plenty of times while learning this. Sometimes I wasn&apos;t quick enough. But that is the work I am showing: taking a real opening and learning [how to be in the exchange](/listening-without-monitoring-your-speech), instead of trying to write both sides of it first.

## Related answers

- [How do I listen when I am worrying about my speech?](/listening-without-monitoring-your-speech)
- [What did I do when I saw an opening to speak to a group?](/joining-a-group-conversation-when-you-stutter)

[Find your question](/questions)
</source_markdown><sections><section id="reading-content" role="source_context" citation_url="https://usedtostutter.com/starting-conversations-when-you-stutter#reading-content"><source_markdown xml:space="preserve">I start with something in front of us. Something we can both see, something that just happened, or something we have in common. That is where I find the little spark for a conversation.

I used to stand there trying to work it all out. What was I going to say? What if they asked me something back? Which word would I get stuck on? The conversation hadn&apos;t even started, and I was already busy with all of it.

Learning to take an opening as it appeared took practice. I had to trust that I could find the next words when the next part happened.

</source_markdown></section><section id="the-man-looking-at-cookies" role="source_context" citation_url="https://usedtostutter.com/starting-conversations-when-you-stutter#the-man-looking-at-cookies"><source_markdown xml:space="preserve">## The man looking at cookies

In the grocery store, a man was looking at cookies. I said they looked good and that if they were on sale, I was in trouble. I told him I used to eat a lot of junk food, then asked, “how about you?”

His answer was that he was diabetic and couldn&apos;t touch it. I said, “But you still look at it. Smart.” Then I moved on.

The cookies were the thing we were both looking at. His answer gave me the next part. That little exchange was enough for me to show the practice: notice something, say something, hear the answer and respond.

</source_markdown></section><section id="something-that-happens-right-in-front-of-you" role="source_context" citation_url="https://usedtostutter.com/starting-conversations-when-you-stutter#something-that-happens-right-in-front-of-you"><source_markdown xml:space="preserve">## Something that happens right in front of you

At the market, a man threw something toward a trash can and missed. I saw it and said, “Hey, so that was pretty close man.” I commented in the moment, while we both knew what had happened.

Later, I opened another exchange with, “Go Gators man!” I&apos;m a Florida graduate and a Gator fan. We talked about the team, the coach and the recruiting class. That was something I actually enjoyed talking about, and it gave the conversation somewhere to go.

Those are different openings, but both came from being there and noticing. [The market recording](/talking-in-crowds-when-you-stutter) shows several of those small moments.

</source_markdown></section><section id="what-happened-when-i-hesitated" role="source_context" citation_url="https://usedtostutter.com/starting-conversations-when-you-stutter#what-happened-when-i-hesitated"><source_markdown xml:space="preserve">## What happened when I hesitated?

I developed what I called my 3 Second Rule. I could see an opportunity, start thinking about it, and very quickly make it harder for myself. The moment would turn into another round of planning and fear.

If I was going to approach, I wanted to take the opening. If I had already got caught in that hesitation, I would skip that person. That was a rule I used for my own practice. The point was the pattern I recognized in myself: waiting there could turn a spontaneous comment into something I had rehearsed and worried over.

</source_markdown></section><section id="a-question-gives-the-other-person-room" role="source_context" citation_url="https://usedtostutter.com/starting-conversations-when-you-stutter#a-question-gives-the-other-person-room"><source_markdown xml:space="preserve">## A question gives the other person room

One question I use is, “Are you from around here?” When someone tells me they&apos;re from somewhere else, I can ask, “How did you find your way here?” I want to be curious about the person and [follow what they give me](/following-up-in-a-conversation).

I have tried different ways of asking. You don&apos;t have to memorize my exact phrase. I want a question or comment that belongs in the situation, followed by enough attention to hear the answer.

In an ordinary conversation, I usually don&apos;t begin by introducing myself. That opening didn&apos;t work well for me. I start with what is happening, then let the conversation develop.

</source_markdown></section><section id="sometimes-the-comment-stays-a-comment" role="source_context" citation_url="https://usedtostutter.com/starting-conversations-when-you-stutter#sometimes-the-comment-stays-a-comment"><source_markdown xml:space="preserve">## Sometimes the comment stays a comment

In the bookstore, I commented on something happening near me and chose not to stay in the exchange. I also talked about a comment that didn&apos;t start a conversation. That was fine; it wasn&apos;t really one I wanted to start.

Some interactions are short. Others go somewhere. I don&apos;t get to know which one it will be before I speak. That uncertainty was something I had to practice being around.

I blocked plenty of times while learning this. Sometimes I wasn&apos;t quick enough. But that is the work I am showing: taking a real opening and learning [how to be in the exchange](/listening-without-monitoring-your-speech), instead of trying to write both sides of it first.

</source_markdown></section><section id="related-answers" role="navigation" citation_url="https://usedtostutter.com/starting-conversations-when-you-stutter#related-answers"><source_markdown xml:space="preserve">## Related answers

- [How do I listen when I am worrying about my speech?](/listening-without-monitoring-your-speech)
- [What did I do when I saw an opening to speak to a group?](/joining-a-group-conversation-when-you-stutter)
</source_markdown></section></sections></article>
