Between Languages

I grew up switching languages the way some people switch channels. At home, I spoke Chinese with my dad; at school, German; online, English. At first, it was just survival — a way to fit in wherever I was. But over time, I realized each language unlocked a different version of me.

In German, I’m direct — sentences snap into place like puzzle pieces. In English, I’m more reflective, almost poetic. In Chinese, I speak less but feel more. Each language changes the rhythm of my thoughts, the tone of my jokes, even the way I see the world.

It used to confuse me — who am I really, if I keep switching? But I’ve come to see it differently: identity isn’t a fixed line; it’s a bridge. Moving between languages taught me empathy. It made me listen harder, notice tone, and read what’s not being said.

Now, when I meet people from different cultures — whether at jewelry fairs or at school — I realize how language shapes connection. It’s not just about words; it’s about the effort to understand.

Being between languages used to make me feel split. Now, it feels like strength — a skill that lets me belong anywhere and build bridges where others see walls.