On Wednesday morning, at a crucial moment when I was sitting in front of four examiners, I froze. I had already anticipated that I wouldn’t do so well in the oral exam component of the bilingual exam I was planning to take to test my Italian and German at the A2 level, but the compulsion to switch between the two languages resulted in my brain’s wiring getting crossed. I suddenly forgot the German word for ‘three’ (drei), and I couldn’t think beyond the Italian tre. I had picked an envelope that had the topic ‘school time’ and I had ten minutes to prepare. I’m still smarting a little from the experience, but I find that, for a change, I am shaming myself and I’m not slipping into the default corollary feelings of humiliation and embarrassment. I am trying to process my failure while simultaneously consoling and lifting myself up. This is huge, I tell myself. This is progress. Could this be what healing looks like?

The day before my test I couldn’t suppress my nervousness. I felt it in every cell of my body. So I began talking to my body and my mind. I told myself that I had been through so many more genuinely frightening experiences, like a Caesarean birth, in addition to other past surgeries and hospitalisations. I had lived through the anxiety of the Pandemic. I moved to another country and have survived homesickness. This oral examination would only be ten minutes long, and the stakes were so low. It was free, so I wouldn’t be losing money. If I failed, I could just take it again in about three months. I continued to talk myself through the anxiety. I explained to my inner child that the result of all my efforts was already visible. My level of comprehension with regard to Italian had improved dramatically. Even though I still take time to form sentences and recall words, at least I can understand my speaker. I continued in this manner and managed to calm myself.