The German Journey

Extroverted, bubbly, inclusive and dare I say – funny: these are all the qualities that I would give myself when speaking my native language, English.

Sheepish, anxious, quiet, shy: these are all the adjectives one could describe me as when trying to speak German.

It kills me inside.

There have been too many moments when I wonder: „do they know I‘m actually not like this?“

It‘s hard feeling misunderstood.

Once, at a birthday party of a sweet friend, I drank way too much liquor to ease my anxiety of not being able to talk to everyone as much as I wanted to. To numb the self-deprecating thoughts.

Before the pandemic I was part of a small, tight-knit gym here in Munich. I think people there knew who I was, but I hardly spoke there because I was too nervous. I was there for over a year and one day recently I thought: how sad is it that people probably thought of me as that one shy girl? They have no clue who I actually am!

I still feel stupid having to sometimes rely on people to help me with phone calls because I panic and get confused with muffled, quick dialogue.

Then there‘s the brighter days. Finding a new favorite word and using it correctly. Verdauungspaziergang.

Going to my boyfriend‘s boss‘ home for an intimate 3 hour backyard BBQ and actually conversing in German the whole time. Finally not feeling like I want to crawl in a hole and stay there.

Reading a letter that comes in the mail and fully comprehending it. Finally not just throwing it in a pile that had good intentions but is inevitably ignored.

I have to count these small wins as what they are: progress. I think Confucius said something like it doesn‘t matter how slowly you go as long as you don‘t stop.