“Una mesa para dos por favor.”
“Una mesa para dos por favor.”
I repeat the sentence over and over again in my head as my husband and I walk over to the restaurant for lunch.
“Una mesa para dos por favor1.”
It’s one of the sentences I’ve managed to memorise from our time spent in Spain last year as it was then that I started on my quest to learn Spanish. It’s neatly tucked away in a little space in my brain along with other phrases related to ordering food and drink. But no matter how many times I say those six words to myself and no matter how many times I’ve said them to a real life Spanish person, I still feel the nerves bubbling up within me.
We arrive at the restaurant. I know what I have to do. My husband hangs back, his silent agreement deafening. Fully aware that a word starting with a vowel creates a block in my throat, I meekly mutter the words to the waitress, my mind infiltrated with paranoia that my Yorkshire accented Spanish will not be fully understood. She looks at me for a second too long before ushering us over to a table for two.
“Gracias.”
I can breath again.
I’ve always dreamed of moving to a new country, to have the opportunity to immerse myself in a different culture and live somewhere new for a while. We’re now within touching distance of that dream (I will let you guess which country we are planning on moving to…) and I know that what comes with that is the task of learning the local language. I quite frankly don’t want to be that person who moves to a new country and five years on is still struggling to communicate with the locals. Let’s be honest, we know as English speakers that wherever we go, we’ll always be able to get by. It’s lazy and it’s uncultured and it’s the sad truth. But I don’t want to be seen as a typical Brit Abroad. I also don’t want to be one of those wives that relies on their husband to do all the talking for them, even though I know that he will master it far quicker than I will.
During our stay in Chamonix last month, we met a guy who was on holiday with his son. The guy was American, his wife Spanish and they now live in Germany. He joked that his five year old is his translator, him already speaking three languages. It reminds me of when we met a Polish couple last year in Spain, who could speak both Polish and English and were on their way to learning a third. They had been travelling Europe and had now settled in Spain, their children attending an international school. After only a short period of time, both of their girls were already able to get by in Spanish. They did admit though that their eldest was finding it harder as it turns out there's also a sweet spot for learning a language as a child2. We’ve met many people like this on our travels, people who can speak multiple languages and my envy only grows. I know I only have myself to blame, never caring much for learning French and German at school. The truth is, I dreaded those classes. I had little confidence in speaking English so adding other languages into the mix was too much for me to handle.
The reality for me now is that my brain is no longer a sponge compared to that of a five year old and it’s going to take much more effort for my thirty-three (nearly thirty-four!) year old brain to learn this new skill. Unfortunately I also have a brain which holds deep-rooted insecurities as a result of the way I speak, with negative thoughts so ingrained within me when it comes to talking and how I’m heard by others. All my life I’ve carried a weight with me, a fear of judgement and pity because of my stammer. And even though these thoughts are much, much quieter these days, they still appear from time to time. They most certainly appear when I try and use my voice in this new way.
My husbands dad and step-mum live in France and as we were passing through a couple of weeks ago, we arranged to meet for a few days. One morning, my husbands step-mum and I walked to the nearby town to pick up the customary pastry breakfast. She’s been taking French lessons and I looked on in admiration as she walked into the boulangerie oozing confidence and French flair, armed with knowing exactly what she was going to say and how she was going to say it. She isn’t flustered if she get’s it wrong, she doesn’t want the ground to swallow her up if the French baker corrects her or looks at her in confusion. She views it as a learning process. She told me that people will generally want to help you, especially if they see you trying. I need to emulate that level of confidence, that carefree attitude, to view my failures as learnings as opposed to embarrassment. I have this irrational fear I need to get over, this fear of looking stupid and caring what other people think of me.
I often wonder if I would still feel this way if I didn’t have a stammer?
It’s then in moments like this where I think how much easier my life would be if I were stammer-free. I have these day dreams sometimes where I’m confident and sassy, seeking out every opportunity to test my new language. I laugh off every mistake, I learn from my miss-pronunciations and incorrect word usage. I joke with the cashiers, make Spanish friends at the gym, order to perfection in a restaurant instead of avoiding all eye contact and waiting for my husband to do it instead.
Nobody would be able to shut me up!
But then I drift back to reality, the reality where I do have a stammer and where my confidence can be low at times. I remind myself that my stammer is part of who I am, that it’s made me the person I am today and that it's through overcoming the hard and the challenging times that’s made me a better person. I shouldn’t waste my time wondering what my life would be like without it or if it’s my stammer that has made me introverted. I know that’s unproductive and unhelpful and certainly isn’t going to help me on my journey of learning Spanish. But it’s easier, isn’t it, to fall down in the face of worry, it’s easier to admit defeat than to do the thing.
Let’s not forget, speech impediment or not, learning a language is hard. I try Duolingo every so often but “a boy eating an apple” isn’t entirely relevant to me. I try to focus on learning situational phrases or the most commonly used 100 words. Last year I was able to go into a Spanish hairdressers and book appointments. I even went to the dentist. My husband and I also attended a few evenings at a Language Club but even then I would feel the need to hide behind his shield. I’ve read that immersion is key, and I know that immersion will be easier once we’re living in Spain full time3. I also know that private one on one lessons for me are a must as I create a space away from my husband and independently tackle the mountain ahead.
I could quite easily sit here and convince myself that I don’t really need to learn Spanish. I could tell myself that actually I have a choice, and that choice could be to not put myself through this difficult task.
I can get by and all will be fine and dandy!
But deep down I know how defeatist of me that would be. I know that in years to come how that bad attitude would sit with me and how I would regret not trying. I know too that this learning process will form part of my journey of removing the grip my stammer continues to have over certain areas of my life. So here I am, committing to myself to give this a go. I’m not committing to becoming fluent in the next year because let’s not go too crazy, but I am committing to learning and trying and immersing myself and giving it my best shot. Bit by bit, step by step, Spanish word by Spanish word.
Let’s see how it goes shall we…
Mucho amor 💜
I’m interested, can you speak another language? And if so, how did you find the learning process and do you have any tips? I’d love for you to join me in the comments below!!
In case you were wondering, this means “a table for two please” in Spanish.
Research shows that it is best to start by age 10 if you want to achieve the grammatical fluency of a native speaker and that’s because children’s brains are adept at learning the grammatical rules and pronunciation of new languages. It also showed that children are proficient at learning a second language up until the age of 18, after which the advantage starts to decline.
I read that even more important than when you learn a language is how you learn it. People who learned via immersion are said to be significantly more fluent than those who learned in a class. So there is still hope for me yet!
I relate to this big time, especially the repeating (or rehearsing!) what you're going to say part repeatedly ahead of an interaction. It takes time, but we're getting there!
Much love always xxx