It is terrifying to me to speak Spanish. I am afraid of making mistakes, of sounding dumb. I have a decent base already—I took it all four years of high school and retained much of what I learned. Language just…works in my brain. Something about it just stores well and makes sense and flows. For how little I’ve truly practiced since high school, I have retained, in my opinion, a rather impressive amount.
Still, I am nervous to speak it. I psych myself out, build up the interactions in my head and get so nervous I can hardly get a word out. That doesn’t sit well with me, not when I think of my thoughts when someone is speaking a language that is clearly not their first. I am proud of them for learning, for practicing, for trying. I do not judge them, I applaud the feat they are undertaking. I recognize how hard it is to learn a whole new language and how impressive it is, too. Being able to communicate to a wider group of people is a skill. So many people speak multiple languages, and learn English as a second or third language. English is my first language, and I don’t speak anything else fluently enough to say I have another one. That doesn’t sit well with me; I want that to change.
Once again, as I write about often, the only way to get better at it is to practice. Only by pushing myself, forcing myself to give it a little practice every day, will I actually get better. I have a few people in my life I can speak it with, and I try it, here and there, but I want to get better—really and truly, I want to get better. Which means that practicing here and there isn’t enough. I have added it to my list of things to improve on, ways I want to grow.
