Tourette’s is my superpower
Television presenter Aidy Smith explains how his vocal and physical tics have helped rather than hindered him
IT WAS Christmas Eve and I was eight years old. As I finished my letter for Santa, my wish wasn’t for presents. The envelope contained a note of desperation from a little boy who didn’t understand what he’d done to deserve being like this.
“Please don’t give me presents, Santa. All I need is to be normal,” it read.
Three weeks earlier, I had been on the train when a burst of anger exploded across the carriage. “Will someone shut that child up!”
My mother began to scribble a note to explain I wasn’t being difficult and that the little noises I made were tics caused by a neurological condition that resulted in involuntary movements and vocalisation – Tourette syndrome.
The man raged down the carriage with the paper in his hand: “Is this meant to embarrass me? My daughter is a psychiatrist and knows all about these problems!”
Problems, I remember thinking. That’s all I was, a problem. When you’re eight and the root of so much embarrassment, anger and hurt your family are made to go through on a daily basis, life isn’t very happy.
Little did I know back then that my Tourette’s isn’t a weakness. Now, aged 29, as a drinks journalist and presenter of an award-winning series, The Three Drinkers, I realise it’s my superpower. Because when I focus on my passions, tics all but vanish. Watching me, you’d have no idea I even had Tourette’s.
Most people’s first interaction with TS was likely someone shouting a profanity on a comedy sketch or video. This is called coprolalia but affects only about six per cent of those with Tourette’s. For the rest, they take the form of any movement or sound. Mine, which began at seven, took the form of a cough, loud whooping and neck jerk.
From then until 13, school was tough. Name calling was frequent. I have memories of getting to school early and hiding in the canteen until lessons began. A group of sixth-form students noticed my tics and took me under their wing. That act of kindness has never left me. While some teachers were amazing and went out of their way to research my condition, others were oblivious and there were occasions where I was made to be a complete laughing stock.
Aged 12, a substitute teacher shouted mid-class: “What is wrong with you, boy?”Once she’d been filled in by staff, she pulled me up midway through the next lesson. “Why didn’t you tell me you had something wrong with you? You’ve embarrassed me in front of everyone,” she said.
At 13, on my first day of senior school, I asked the headmaster to announce in assembly, to more than 800 kids and staff, that I had Tourette syndrome and explain it. This was going to go one of two ways – dramatically worse or significantly better.
Thank God I made this decision, because it was the latter.
It wasn’t until I turned 15 that I began to understand that when I channelled my energy into what I loved – theatre studies, DJing online and acting – my tics slowed and, in some cases, disappeared. And this allowed me to excel.
I began teaching myself cognitive behavioural therapies. Meditation, sensory stimulation and a positive mental attitude allowed me to begin to control my urges and rechannel my energy into what I loved.
By 18, I’d got accepted into Lancaster University where I began learning how to disguise my tics. Now I present my own series on Amazon Prime, write a drinks column and travel the world to host events.
My tics have changed over time (my cycles last about eight months) and are at their worst when I am emotional, stressed or unwell. I frequently get migraines, muscle pains and insomnia.
Dating is another hurdle – there’s always a fear you’ll drive people away given your oddities. I’m still figuring this part out.
But am I happy? Yes. Extremely. I have daily struggles but, having found my superpower, I can say I’m one of the only TV presenters in the world with Tourette’s – and I’m confident I won’t be the last.
The Three Drinkers airs on Amazon Prime.