When people only know you in a foreign language

How many people out there know the “real” you? You know what I mean… people who love you for you and know who you are inside and out. Are they family members? Maybe people you grew up with who have been life-long friends? If you speak more than one language, how many of them only know you in your native language?

As someone who lives in France and uses only French to communicate with everyone (aside from Tom), French people I’ve met in France only know me in French. And they’re missing out! I’m not 100% myself in my second language. Are you?

Let’s talk about this.

If you’ve learned a second language as an adult as a matter of necessity, I’m sure your emotions have been all over the place. Language learning isn’t easy and when you add in the additional stress of maybe moving abroad, getting married, adjusting to working in that new country, having a child, etc., it can be A LOT.

From speaking with an accent, to never-ending vocabulary lists to commit to memory, to always feeling different, the learning curve feels insurmountable at times. But we learn to manage.

I had an intermediate level of French before moving to France in 2012. Well, on paper anyway. When you’re actually in France trying to converse with people outside of the classroom in real time, it’s a bit of a shock. The French language comes at you fast and is sprinkled with slang and mumbling and everything else that sends shivers up a newbie in France’s spine. It takes time to get used to that.

In the early years, I got tired of meeting people who would think of me as the American woman, the foreigner with the shaky French. The outsider. The person who was a burden to invite places because they’d have to explain things to me.

But that was my insecurity talking. No one made me feel less-than. It was self-imposed. I was too hard on myself (still am). I didn’t always allow myself to see what they saw…. someone with interesting ideas, a fresh perspective, a worthwhile cultural exchange, someone to learn from. It was all positive in reality.

There have been times where I’m doing the best I can but then self-doubt creeps in. On my worst days, I wanted to quit and never utter a word of French ever again. But then I got over it. Tomorrow is always a new day.

Over the years, I’ve settled in. I’ve gained confidence. My motivation has waned and I’ve gotten it back. I’ve made French friends. People understand me just fine and I’m able to express myself in pretty much any situation. My French is fluent. France is my home.

But a question I’ve asked myself over the years is, “Do people know the real me in French? Is it a problem if they don’t?”

I don’t know the answers.

I do know that people are complex and can I even say that I know the real me 100%? Our personalities are layered and some people and situations bring out different parts of us.

As time goes on and we move through life, we change and grow. And I’d argue that this happens regardless of the language.

But I know I’ll never be able to express myself as fluidly in French as I’m able to in English. You can be fluent in a second language, but for many of us who learned a language as an adult, it’ll never be quite the same as it is with our mother tongue.

I also admit I don’t work on it as much as I could (or maybe should). And that’s OK and something I’ve accepted. I’m good enough and I let my perfectionism go a long time ago.

I don’t think my in-laws know me the same way they would if I were a French native speaker. My jokes aren’t French…. I don’t even always get their jokes! There’s definitely distance between us that maybe wouldn’t be there if we spoke the same native language.

We communicate just fine, though… my French is good. 😉 It’s not the literal words that create the lack of closeness. It’s everything else.

Maybe you can relate?

What’s interesting though is that English is Tom’s second language (along with Spanish, although he rarely speaks it anymore) and we speak English at home. So I speak to him in my native tongue and he speaks to me in his second language. I’ve never once felt like I didn’t know the “real” Tom. I feel he 100% knows the real me. And that’s a good thing, you know, since we got married and all. 

I’ve mentioned this before, but I almost laugh when he’s speaking French as if it’s not the “real” Tom because I know him in English, not French. I think of him as my “American” husband. Yes, he has an accent in English but to me, in my mind, he’s just like me. And then I see him speaking French and have to remind myself….

He’s never once said knowing me in English has been a hindrance or that English has prevented me from getting to know the real him (and in the early days, his English was NOT great…. and now he’s amazing despite never having lived in an English-speaking country or visited for more than 10 days at a time).

He never feels held back by English despite him saying his French is much stronger. I’ve never felt like he wasn’t smart enough or good enough in his second language. He’s better at Wordle than I am!

Tom has also never seemed burdened by English, even in the early years when he wasn’t so quick. Never worked up, never ready to quit, never bothered. I think it’s a personality thing. He’s a star, has a very positive mindset, never gets in his head about things, and is also crazy motivated to always get better (I should take his lead).

It’s an interesting topic and one I can probably write a separate post on but I’ll stop myself for now.

Let me move on…

Here are some thoughts I have surrounding the topic of people getting to know you in your second language:

I started seriously learning French as an adult. And I am seriously hard on myself.

I didn’t go to a bilingual high school or even take French seriously in high school. I also didn’t go on to study it in college (I took Gaelic. 100% serious). 

When I started taking French lessons at the Alliance Française in Montclair, NJ, the only French person I’d known in my life up until that point was my French teacher, Yvonne. That was it. I had no one (and no life experience) to compare her to. I took classes for fun once a week.

Along with the actual language learning, the cultural learning started at the same time. It’s not something I really considered much at the time, but there’s so much we absorb from our upbringing in a certain place that we don’t even realize we’re absorbing until we’re no longer there.

Once I moved to France, I was then face-to-face with French culture daily and it became apparent pretty much immediately that I didn’t have all the cultural know-how. I didn’t know the cultural references from kids’ TV shows, the inside jokes and movie references, and even mundane stuff that French kids know that is carried with them into adulthood. I was 100% American in that regard.

I think if you’re bilingual and learned two or more languages from when you were young, this doesn’t apply because not only are you raised in the language, you’re raised in the culture and that counts for so much.

I don’t seem as smart in French.

I have a decent vocabulary in English. I can express myself rather professionally and eloquently in my native language. But in French? Well, I definitely don’t come across quite as self-assured and smart. Maybe people think I’m dumb. But maybe people think I’m dumb in English too, so……. lol.

I think I get frustrated much more quickly when speaking French, too. I probably seem a bit more reserved than I am. Sometimes I’ll have a complicated thought I want to express and get in my head about it and then miss the moment. Stop. Overthinking. It.

It’s cute making mistakes as an 18-year-old exchange student. It’s less cute as a grown adult. Ego gets in the way. So sometimes I don’t say anything. Maybe that’s a blessing in disguise. I think I say too much at times in English. 😉

I am not tactful.

In French, sometimes I just don’t have the same finesse that a native speaker would have and I come across more bluntly than I’d like. 

I am not funny.

Let’s just say that jokes don’t always translate. And if you are more direct in your communication style or have a dry sense of humor, that might not translate either.

I’m a little more smiley and bubbly in French.

When speaking English, the language is never a hindrance and I can express myself the way I feel the most comfortable. I’m not an overly smiley, bubbly, or high-energy person and I let my words literally do the talking.

But in French, I feel like I sometimes need to overcompensate for my flubs — especially around people I’ve just met — by being overly friendly and fun. It’s me… just turned up a few notches, something I do subconsciously in French but do NOT do in English interactions.

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But know what? I’m proud of myself for moving abroad as an adult. For learning a new language. For taking a chance on myself and a new life. All of the ups and downs come with the territory and I enjoy writing about the early years, today, and everything in between.

Language learning is most definitely a journey and no journey is linear. Give yourself grace. I’ve had to do that and I’m still learning how. You’re doing better than you think. People do see the real you in a foreign language, one piece at a time.

Most of all, people don’t see you for your flaws. Trust me on that. And the ones who do weren’t meant to know the real you in the first place.

Anyway, I’m just honestly sharing my thoughts and would love to hear if you can relate. Maybe you’ve felt some of this over the years too if you live abroad. Or maybe it’s something you’ve never considered… Talk to me below!