Mind Blown that I’m Being Paid To Write In A Foreign Language

There’s nothing special about me.

I started journaling when I was 13. I did it on a nearly daily basis. So, of course, I was an alright writer in my teens and early twenties.

But then, at age 26, I moved to another country. I was lucky. I took lessons in their language from the time I was eight. But those were very superficial lessons. Some grammar, some vocabulary, and that’s it.

So being immersed in a whole new language came as a shock. Having to do my job in that language was the ultimate challenge.

So here began a long journey of language proficiency.

I grew up bilingual, so this was the third language I was trying to become proficient in.

Still, I was treated as being “stupid” on multiple occasions because of pronunciation or grammatical mistakes. My university degrees didn’t matter. I had an accent, and I used idioms while speaking.

I put myself in a strict learning situation. I was going to only watch movies and read books in that language.

Eventually, I overcame the language barrier, and I was able to work at the same level as my peers.

Not only that, but I moved to another country where, despite speaking the same language, they had a different accent. And I thrived.

All my jobs required me to write extensively, from university courses and research papers to grants and, right now, environmental assessments.

But those years, first in Australia, and now in the US, shaped my life in a way I could have never imagined before.

I can’t believe that I’m being paid a professional salary to write full-time in a language I barely understood at age 25.

And that you are, right now, assuming you made it this far, reading something I’ve written in that language (while holding a baby).

And again, I’m not special, just stubborn and passionate about writing.

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