He sings like an angel but Pop Idol finalist Gareth Gates took 20 seconds just to tell the judges his name at the auditions for the TV show in August. Thanks to an intensive course of therapy, the 17-year-old singer has now almost conquered his stammer and is one of the favourites to win the contest. Darlington journalism student Lucy Sloyan, also an acute stammerer, writes about how the McGuire rogramme has helped transform her life.

I LOVE white wine, but until 15 months ago had never managed to ask for a glass of Chardonnay. I would explain my travel arrangements by handing over my destinations scribbled on a scrap of paper and go way over my overdraft limit rather than call up my bank and read out my account number. Christmas was a nightmare I would always pretend I'd lost the joke in my Christmas cracker and would do everything to avoid playing Trivial Pursuit.

The fact is I had a stammer, an affliction that no matter how hard I tried, affected every decision I made. The humiliation I endured day after day, of simply not being able to ask for what I wanted, ate away inside. The frustration and anger of not being able to express myself as a human being reduced me to a seething mess.

No man got anywhere near me, and although I had friends, I doubt whether any of them really knew me. As far as I was concerned, they were nice to have, but I didn't really need them. To most people I was "happy Lucy", always smiling, always laughing - little did they know.

I existed like this until the age of 25. I had tried speech therapy when I was 16, with little success. I only went because I needed a doctor's note to allow me an extra 15 minutes in my French and German oral exams.

I went every week but put in as little effort as I had to. The breathing tapes I was given were left unopened in my bag and as soon as I had taken my exams, I stopped going.

Then one evening, my dad called up raving about an article he'd read about the McGuire Programme, an intensive four-day speech therapy course. The only thing I was able to take in was that after three days the students stand on a soapbox in the middle of busy city centre and make a public speech.

It's a very strange feeling having to confront your deepest and darkest fears. On one hand it was liberating - I was being given the opportunity to do something about the demons that were by now taking over my life. On the other hand, there was blind panic: What if I made a complete fool of myself, what if it didn't work for me?

Whether you stammer or not, it's very easy to take the safe route through life, making do, rather than trying to improve your circumstances. I reasoned to myself that this course was worth the risk - I never wanted to look back over my life and think "if only".

Wednesday, August 9, 2000, is a day I will always remember. From dinner that night, to the leaving speeches on the Sunday afternoon, the next four days were a whirl of early morning starts and very late nights. In that time we learned how to breathe from the costal diaphragm, which by keeping the voice low in the chest, greatly reduces the chance of 'blocking'. We wore a belt tightly fastened around the ribcage so we could really feel our ribs expand as our lungs filled with air.

On the Friday afternoon, each new student was paired up with a graduate to see how the technique stood up in the real world. By asking for directions and the time we were surprised to notice the reaction from strangers' was not nearly as scary as we had envisaged.

On Saturday afternoon it was our turn, and we cautiously road-tested our new technique in bustling Durham City centre. The trick is eye contact. Once this is established, the person you are speaking to is like putty in your hands. You may sound a bit different, but as long as you look composed and in control, nine times out of ten the stranger won't walk away and (unbelievably) will answer looking straight back at you.

After the course I returned home and made my housemates put on the belt and costal breathe with me. They looked ridiculous, couldn't get the hang of it to save their lives, but that didn't matter. The laughter was raucous, and the ice broken. It was a fun evening that eased me gently into my new persona.

But although I could maintain my discipline at home, I struggled using it with people I didn't know. The more I tried to be fluent, the worse my speech became and I quickly regressed to Lucy pre-course.

Despite this, six weeks later I attended a refresher course. Although I was a stronger speaker when I left, I brought home with me an overwhelming burden of self-doubt. Who, really, was I? Would I have taken a different path through life had I not had a stammer? Would I have been more successful?

It was only on my third course in Manchester that I finally experienced the 'high' that had eluded me for six months. They were truly the most rewarding and happiest four days of my life. I faced my fears and came out beaming the other side. I was asked to take out a new student to speak to strangers on the street.

My instant reaction was to say no, but I knew that putting the technique into practice was my major stumbling block. Friday afternoon came round in a flash, and with new student, Darren, in tow, we braved the public of Manchester. My fear level was sky-high, so I knew if I was to achieve any success I had to use the fear reduction tools we had been taught. And they worked. Nobody walked away. I don't know who was more surprised - the new student or me. It honestly was as easy as that. The boost this gave to my confidence is indescribable. At last I felt like a fully-functioning human being. I held my head high and walked proud. I looked calm, composed and in control, and so that was the reaction strangers mirrored.

My life had just begun and I set myself a goal. Since the age of seven I've dreamed of becoming a reporter, but knew my speech wouldn't hold up under pressure in a busy newsroom. In July, I attended an interview for a place on a journalism course. I have never wanted anything so much in my life. I explained I was a recovering stammerer and how passionate I was about realising my ambition and to my delight and disbelief I was offered a place there and then.

I'm looking forward to interviewing strangers, asking pertinent questions at press conferences and one day jumping up in the newsroom and shouting: "Hold the front page!"

It's the mini Everests I climb everyday that give me the biggest thrill. Being able to ask questions in class, reading out loud instead of 'blocking' on the second word, and being asked to sit down for someone else to continue. I can now hold long conversations, book taxis, and order Chinese takeaways. My heart soars every time I jump a hurdle that would have proved impossible 15 months ago.

I still face situations that unnerve me and I slip up every now and then, but I don't beat myself up any more. It's easy to forget how bad it used to be and how far I've come. I don't panic if I stammer now, because I can control it and carry on having the time of my life. Glass of Chardonnay anyone