Languages are part of our identity. For many people, they form a huge part of who they are. You can clearly see this in places like Catalunya, Galiza, or Euskal Herria. When we speak the language we call our mother tongue, we feel at home 🏡; we feel safe. We master its nuances and understand every aspect: culture, history, even gastronomy—they are all deeply intertwined.

I experience this every day as an immigrant in Madrid, even after more than eight years in this city. I know I will never be able to express myself as easily as I can in my mother tongue, the Dutch as it is spoken in Belgium 🇧🇪. My life and relationships would be so much easier if I could communicate with my neighbours, my doctor, the cashier at Mercadona 🛒, and—most importantly—my partner, in my native language, Nederlands.

My ex-husband was Italian 🇮🇹, and my current partner is Venezuelan 🇻🇪. Even though I speak Italian at a near-native level and Spanish at a very high level, the misunderstandings we’ve had because we don’t share a mother tongue are countless. These language barriers, combined with cultural differences, bring challenges—but they also make an international relationship interesting.

I know I’ll never fully understand my partner unless I reach what I call a “C2+ level.” That means not just achieving near-perfect mastery of the language but also gaining a deep understanding of everything connected to it: history, culture, gastronomy, entertainment… But there is actually more: I need to reach a “C2+ level” in Alfredian Venezuelan Spanish. That’s the unique Spanish of someone who grew up in Caracas, spent time in the U.S., now lives in Madrid, and teaches Spanish and English. It’s a lifelong challenge, and while I enjoy it every single day, it doesn’t take away the moments of frustration. Language learning and frustration 😤 are two sides of the same coin.

That’s why language learning for me is a never-ending adventure. It’s why I’ll never stop improving my (Alfredian Venezuelan) Spanish. Learning the language of your partner, colleague, friend, in-laws, or neighbours allows you to connect with them on a deeper level, fostering trust and understanding in ways that go beyond words.

This is something I see every day in my students who are learning Dutch with me. Many are driven by personal connections—whether they have a partner who speaks the language, want to communicate better with family, or are integrating into life in Belgium or the Netherlands. Watching them take on the challenge of learning a new language for the people they care about is truly inspiring, even when frustration is part of the journey. Language isn’t just a tool; it’s a bridge to meaningful relationships and shared experiences.