First of all, sorry about my English. I have probably made many mistakes that I don’t even notice in the other posts in this blog, or maybe sentences that don’t make sense. I will try to be more careful.
That is of course easier on the written word, as you have time to think before typing, or changing the sentences right away. It is different when you are speaking and it is not your maternal language. Almost everyone has experienced it, trying to make a point and just not being able to reach it. Or saying something out loud just to realize how wrong it was.
But probably the worst part doesn’t lie in grammar or sentence constructions. The worst part is when they don’t understand you.
That is the kind of fear that my flatmate Marta has to deal with everyday. Her English is not as good as mine (and mine is far away from perfect), and she is shyer than me when it comes to talk. She doesn’t want to make mistakes, while I just don’t care and am happy with being “fluently wrong”. But I think fluently wrong leads to right more often than “silently listening”.
What is certainly the worst part for me is when trying to express my opinions about a “deep” topic. Whenever I try to talk about feelings, it just doesn’t feel explained enough. And I repeat the same again and again but with different words, still not being satisfied with the result. I just can’t seem to find the right color to paint my thoughts with.
Since I started this blog I have been talking about loneliness in one way or another. This is the last kind of loneliness I wanted to adress. The loneliness of not being understanded – literally or not so literally.
I think that to fight against that loneliness implies being brave -as always when it comes to live on your own in a foreign country. Brave enough to make mistakes, brave enough to not give up when it is harder to be understanded deeply.
I love that phrase, I think I should have it beared in mind more often in my life:
“Be brave enough to make mistakes”.
And make them.
Deep conversations -and stuff 