Fro 4 years now, I have been a sole-English speaker. My progression with the Swedish language resembles the 5 stages of grief.
First came denial. That I did not need this language in my life. I can invest my time in far better ways. I DO NOT NEED IT!
The followed anger. Why is everyone speaking a magic melodic language that I do not understand ? Damn them and everyone else who denies me the opportunity to communicate with them. Speak to me you fools. In English please.
Then I tried to apply some bargaining. If I could understand some words then maybe I do not need to fully dedicate my time to learning Swedish. Maybe they would allow me to reply in English? Maybe they will want my opinions then? Maybe I can try to meet them halfway?
Then came depression. I was sad. For a while. I have painted myself into a corner. It has been 4 years and I still do not use their damn language. Let me pour myself a huge glass of wine and cry in the fetus position in my shower.
Finally, I arrived to the stage of acceptance. Yeah-yeah, I am useless with languages and all that. But at least I know that already and I can try to learn this damn language from scratch.
Maybe it is not too late for me after all.
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