Language lessons from my Italian wedding

If you use a foreign language (or more than one) in your day-to-day life, then this is for you.

I’m not exaggerating when I say that I learnt several lessons about neuroscience from my wedding weekend in Italy. These are lessons I’ve learnt about in theory many times, but this time they seemed to arrive in a very practical, real-life way.

For a little bit of background, my wife is Italian, I’m Norwegian, and we live together in London, so naturally our guests were from all over the place*. The language nerd in me was thrilled to get the opportunity to speak four of my own languages over the course of one weekend.

The “before” picture: A toddler amongst adults

On visits to Italy I’ve often felt like a toddler at the adults’ table: People speaking Italian around me, at me, and sometimes to me; many conversations going way over my head*; anything I do manage to utter seems to impress everyone: “She speaks!” Shock, awe, applause.

Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating now, but my point here is that I’m often unable to say much in Italian settings. I still feel quite overwhelmed most of the time. It can feel like a lot to have this foreign language around you that you don’t speak properly.

And then my wedding came, and in retrospect, dealing with so many practicalities in Italian was almost like a final exam: I’d spent four years exposed to this language, trying to learn its ins and outs largely through immersion, culminating in this one final test.

A few hours before our guests were due to arrive, we were talking to the venue organisers, most of whom spoke only Italian. The venue was this big mansion in the Tuscan countryside. We were going through everything that was going to happen, the guests would be arriving soon and a lot of things needed to go right.

This is going to sound magical but it really wasn’t (at least, not in the flying broomstick kind of way): As we started to discuss the plan, something happened inside my brain. It was as if a switch was flicked on: All of a sudden, I could speak. I could say everything I needed to say – imperfectly, but successfully.

I’ll get into some of those imperfections, because I am not some kind of language genius – but more on that later. I was getting a lot of positive feedback from people asking me what had happened – between April (the last time I was there) and September (my wedding)? It was clear that I was speaking much more fluently. In response to these questions, I really didn’t have an adequate response because I had no idea what had changed myself.

In the few days after the wedding, as I had some time to reflect on those experiences, I realised a few things:

Mood impacts performance

This is something I’d learnt in theory many times already, from studying the neuroscience of learning: Your mood impacts your performance. How you feel in any given moment – your emotional state – has a huge impact on your ability to perform any task at a high level and at a more accurate level. If you’re feeling stressed, or upset, or under pressure, then your ability to perform can diminish.

Now, I know that weddings can be a huge source of stress and anxiety when you’re the one getting married! But in my case, though I did feel a certain pressure to give my family and friends a great experience, most of my focus was on the gratitude and warmth I felt from being surrounded by people I love. And that mood certainly had a great impact on my ability to speak and understand Italian.

Environment impacts performance

If you’re too cold or too hot, if you have an itch or a wedgie or a headache, if you’re in an ugly, dirty, messy or smelly environment, or if you’re obsessing over how people might react to any mistakes you make, then that will have a negative impact on your brain function. I, on the other hand, was surrounded by the beautiful autumnal Tuscan landscape, the temperature was just right, and everyone there was patient, cheerful and forgiving of my many mistakes.

This positive environment provided the perfect support for my Italian “exam”.

Did I confuse the word camerieri (waiters) for carabinieri (police)? Yes. For a few moments, I was worried that we’d inadvertently* broken some kind of law – perhaps there was some tourist tax we hadn’t paid which we were supposed to – but with continued, collaborative communication, I understood they were only talking about the waiting staff (phew!) and the timing of courses.

Did I once say mañana (Spanish for tomorrow) instead of domani (Italian for tomorrow)? Absolutely! Luckily, a few spanishisms* are usually easily recognised by Italians. We had a good laugh about this and then swiftly moved on.

Other than this, I’m sure I made plenty of grammar mistakes I’m unaware of. The great thing about having a supportive environment – and perhaps most importantly that includes the people you’re interacting with – is that it lets you feel safe to do your best, to speak bravely even when you know you’re going to get things wrong. In fact, it doesn’t even feel like bravery when you’re not worried about negative consequences. You’re safe to get out of your own head: To think less and practise more.

Necessity impacts performance

This might have been the first time in my life where I had a genuine and urgent need for understanding and being understood in Italian. There were times when my wife was busy with other practicalities, so she wasn’t always around to “save” me if my Italian skills fell short*. I had to understand whether there had been any changes to the schedule, or if there was something that I needed to communicate or make happen. My mind had to be ultra-sharp in order to stay on top of things – and I’d imagine this is difficult enough in a language you’re fluent and comfortable in.

This third point can be a difficult balance to strike* with the first (mood): On the one hand, a certain amount of pressure can be good, but on the other, if you tip it too far, you run the risk of having the pressure affect your mood negatively, leading to overwhelm, anxiety, and much poorer mental performance. Everyone has their own “Goldilocks zone”* of how much pressure feels stimulating and motivating, rather than overwhelming.

Your subconscious is always listening

All of these factors had an impact on how I was able to express myself, and how well I took in new information in Italian. The most important conclusion I draw from all this is that the subconscious is really freaking powerful. As a language learner, I’ve many times had the experience of putting in a lot of work and time practising a language, trying to stay motivated, and just not feeling like I’m making progress. That can be so frustrating.

I want you to remember that whatever is happening, whatever you’re doing, your subconscious is listening.

So the key is to keep getting that exposure, and it matters a lot less what methods you use or how systematic or organised you are along the way. Our brains tend to want to repeat what we enjoy, so if you find a way to enjoy that process and that journey, then you can trust that your subconscious is taking it in*: Even when you feel like you’re not making progress, there’s still a lot more happening “behind the scenes” of your subconscious.

I’ve been learning Italian very casually for about 4 years, mainly through immersion while I’ve been on trips to Italy. I didn’t really realise what my subconscious was doing that whole time. That’s the definition of subconscious, isn’t it? “Under-awareness”: It’s what we are unaware of.

So after a lot of casual immersion, with a positive mood, a supportive environment, and the right level of urgency, my brain just went “Okay, here are the Italian skills you need. You’re welcome.”


* Mini-glossary

  • all over the place: everywhere

  • going over my head: beyond my understanding

  • inadvertently: accidentally

  • spanishism: a word taken from Spanish and used in another language, often incorrectly

  • to fall short: to be insufficient for a given situation

  • to strike a balance: to choose a comfortable middle between two extremes

  • Goldilocks zone: just right, neither too much or too little of anything

  • to take something in: to understand or absorb an experience


AUTHOR'S BIO

Hedvig is a language and learning coach on a mission to make language learning almost as normal as breathing. She is the founder of Abundate.org and host of the Abundate Podcast, where she interviews language learners, educators and researchers about the magic, power and beauty of language learning. She also shares her personal reflections on language learning in her newsletter. Learn more about private English Neurolanguage Coaching®.