I speak five languages, yet I am somewhow impossible to understand

“Be with someone who speaks your language so you don’t spend a lifetime translating your soul.”

I speak five languages, but not all equally well. In Italian, I sound happier than I actually am. In Spanish, I accidentally become flirtier. French turns me into a toddler who pauses every three words, trying to remember the next verb. And in Portuguese, I’m funnier than in any other language. Because my timing is better, and I have references and expressions that don’t survive translation.

I’ve always wondered if people who only know me in English would even recognize the version of me that speaks Portuguese.

Some songs belong to one language. Mr. Brightside reminds me of college bars in Pennsylvania. Como Eu Quero reminds me of road trips in Brazil. If you translate the lyrics, they’re still songs. But they aren’t the same memories.

Portuguese: Saudade.

Translation: Deep melancholic longing for a person, place, or thing that is absent

What it actually feels like: Missing a version of your life that no longer exists.

Secrets are strange, too. I can tell someone the exact same story in English and Portuguese.

Same words. Same facts. Different vulnerability. For some reason, telling someone a secret in Portuguese feels like handing them something much more fragile and vulnerable. Portuguese is where my childhood lives, and it’s the language my family loves me in.

Italian: Magari.

Translation: Maybe.

What it actually means: God, I hope so.

Maybe because some emotions have an accent.

I don’t know.

Which brings me back to the quote TikTok keeps showing me.

“Be with someone who speaks your language so you don’t spend a lifetime translating your soul.”

I used to think that meant dating someone who speaks Portuguese. Now I am not so sure.

I recently realized that two people can speak the exact same language and still need subtitles.

Via Pinterest

When one person says, “It’s not a big deal.”

And the other hears, “You shouldn’t feel this way.”

One person thinks they’re talking about the event. The other thinks they’re talking about them.

Suddenly, no one is having the same conversation anymore.

French: Ce n’est pas grave.

Literally: “It’s not serious.”

A French person often means: “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay.”

What I hear: “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

Recently, I have come to learn that communication isn't just about speaking the same language. Sometimes two people understand every word the other person says, yet somehow leave feeling completely misunderstood, even after hours and hours of talking. One thinks they're minimizing the event; the other feels like they're minimizing the emotion. One thinks they're offering perspective; the other hears dismissal. The conflict isn't always in what was said. Sometimes it's in the translation.

I’ve come to learn that emotional translation is harder than linguistic translation.

Google Translate can tell you what a sentence means. It can’t tell you what someone was trying to say. Connotation x denotation.

I spent years learning how to communicate in five languages.

And still, somehow, in the middle of all those languages and communication forms, why am I so hard to understand?

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