How languages shape-shift our identity and help us be whole in many voices
On 26 September, we celebrated the European Day of Languages. This year’s motto was“Languages open hearts and minds.”.
I don’t know about you, but I cannot imagine my life as a monolingual. No offence to monolingual people, of course, but for me - it’s simply unimaginable.
The Council of Europe calls linguistic diversity “a tool for achieving greater intercultural understanding and a key element in the rich cultural heritage of our continent.” And I couldn’t agree more.
When I wrote this text at the end of September, I was sitting in a café in Bulgaria, writing it in English. Just before this, I had finished an email in German about a workshop I am giving for a German organisation. Around me, everything hummed in Bulgarian - the chatter, the signs, the rhythm of daily life.
My thoughts often run in English, sometimes in Bulgarian (my native language), and I even catch myself talking to myself in both (but, don’t worry, just in my head 😉). And I know many of you live in similar realities.
Here’s the thing: each of my languages carries a slightly different 𝘮𝘦.
There’s a base though - a core part of who I am - that stays with me in every language: my values, my sense of humour, my empathy. That doesn’t change.
But each language also brings out a version of me the others don’t get to see. Each one shifts me - just enough to be a part of the reality I am currently in. My core self helps me connect with people on a human level, but my “different selves” in each language help me connect within the cultural worlds those languages belong to. That’s how I feel I also act as a bridge: between people, between worlds, between ways of seeing and being.
It’s wildly beautiful, if you think of it - some people spend their whole lives searching for an “identity”, while mine’s been a multicultural, multilingual group project since kindergarten. Especially when you think about the fact that I grew up monolingual. Well, technically. But I can’t imagine existing any other way; being that bridge isn’t just a role I play, it’s woven into my earliest memories. I remember I was about five and I was reading to my Grandpa in Russian. He would then translate the stories to me, sentence by sentence, letting me camp out right in the gap between languages, compare and contrast, drawing from both. And, before you ask, yes, I’ve always been a nerd.
Back then I didn’t have the vocabulary or the perception to explain my in-between-ness. I just knew that Russian held stories my grandfather turned into magic and, somehow, my world was always a bit bigger, a bit glowier, more interesting and somewhat fancier. I felt cool, like I was fortunate enough to take a glimpse into a world many people were not privy to.
Honestly, being the bridge is the only way I know how to be and as much as the in-between-ness might weigh on me sometimes (because of all the emotions and impressions that hit me), it’d probably be a shock to my system if it were any other way.
After all, some people collect stamps or coins. Me? I collect worlds - one translation at a time. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I saw a quote on a building recently that said: “𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦.” and I think it’s just brilliant. Growth is integrity. Staying the same doesn’t mean refusing to change; it means holding on to your foundation while adapting to new contexts.
If my identity includes being compassionate, curious and open-minded, then switching languages doesn’t threaten that - it amplifies it. I adjust, I evolve, I adapt to the different micro worlds I inhabit and in doing so, I remain true to myself in the bigger world that holds and connects them all.
That’s what multilingualism feels like to me.
It’s not about being fragmented. It’s about being whole - flexible, adaptable, grounded in your core self while shifting with each new language and context.
And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Do you feel it too - that your languages bridge cultures and different versions of yourself?
