Tag: writing

  • How Language Shapes Who You Are

    You move to a new country, learn a new language, and suddenly you’re the shy one at parties. Back home, you could talk the ears off a donkey. Here, you’re nodding politely while someone explains the bus timetable for the third time. Or maybe it’s the other way round. You were always quiet in your mother tongue, but now in another language, you’ve developed a sudden flair for dramatic storytelling and ordering coffee with flair. A lot of people who speak more than one language say they feel like different people depending on which language they’re using. But is that just in our heads, or does language really reshape our personalities?

    What the research says (yes, actual science)

    It turns out it’s not just in your head. Studies have shown that people really do behave differently depending on the language they’re speaking. In one experiment, bilingual participants described themselves differently in English than in their native language. They were more assertive, individualistic and achievement-focused in English and more community-minded and humble in their first language. Same person, same day, different vibes. Psychologists think this might be because each language activates different cultural frameworks, like switching between mental apps. You load up English and suddenly you’re talking about your personal goals. Switch to Spanish, and now it’s all about the family WhatsApp group.

    What this means when you move countries

    So, you’ve packed your bags, moved to a new country, and suddenly you’re a slightly different person. Not in a dramatic soap opera way (no evil twin involved), but maybe you’re quieter than you used to be. Or more polite. Or more apologetic, especially if you’ve moved to Britain and have absorbed the national pastime of saying “sorry” to lampposts.

    This shift isn’t just about language skills. It’s about context. The version of you that existed in your home country had a history, inside jokes, and unspoken rules. You knew how to order your coffee and complain about the weather properly. Now, you’re in a different culture, with different expectations, and sometimes you’re just trying to figure out if “How are you?” is a real question or not.

    All of this can quietly shake your sense of identity. It’s easy to start wondering: if I can’t express myself in the way I used to, am I still me?

    Why it matters in therapy

    When people come to therapy, they often bring the version of themselves they know how to explain. But what happens if that version is shaped by a second language? Or if the really raw stuff, the stuff that shaped you, only lives in your mother tongue?

    Therapy in a second language can feel like trying to cry underwater. The emotion is there, but it doesn’t always come out right. Maybe you can’t find the word for a feeling. Maybe you do, but it doesn’t hit the same. Maybe your therapist is kind and warm, but they don’t laugh at your jokes because humour doesn’t travel well.

    On top of that, cultural norms around emotions can be wildly different. In some cultures, naming your feelings is normal. In others, it’s like saying Voldemort out loud. So when therapy invites you to “explore your inner world”, you might find you need a translator. Not just for the words, but for the whole emotional landscape.

    This is not a reason to avoid therapy. It’s a reason to find one that gets this. Because feeling like yourself, all of your selves, matters. Even the version of you that mispronounces “anxiety” or accidentally says something rude when trying to be deep.

    Reclaiming all your selves

    Here’s the beautiful part: living between languages doesn’t make you fragmented. It makes you layered.

    You don’t have to choose between the version of you who laughs too loud in your native language and the quieter, more careful one who speaks English. They’re both real. Both you. And neither of them is a failure just because the right words don’t always come quickly.

    Therapy can be a space to explore all your selves. Not to fix them, but to understand them. To notice who shows up in different contexts. To grieve the parts that feel left behind. And maybe, to gently reintegrate the voices that haven’t had space in a while.

    Whether you’re fluent or fumbling, accented or code-switching, your story matters. And it deserves to be told in whatever language feels most like home.

  • Burnout: When Your Brain Quietly Packs a Bag and Leaves

    Most people don’t recognise burnout straight away.

    It usually starts as something familiar: tiredness. The kind you assume will go away with a good night’s sleep or a quieter weekend. But over time, something shifts. Rest stops working in the way it used to.

    A common description I hear in sessions is this:
    “I’m sitting in front of my laptop, and I know what I need to do—but I can’t seem to start.”

    The task is there. The intention is there. But the capacity isn’t.

    What Burnout Feels Like (From Someone Who’s Been There)

    Burnout is not usually dramatic or sudden. It tends to build gradually.

    At first, it can look like:

    • Feeling more tired than usual
    • Taking longer to get through simple tasks
    • Losing interest in things you normally enjoy

    Over time, it becomes more noticeable:

    • Concentration drops (reading the same sentence repeatedly)
    • Small tasks feel disproportionately effortful
    • You feel more irritable or emotionally flat
    • Social interaction starts to feel draining rather than restorative

    One way to think about it:
    It’s like running on a very low battery, but without a clear way to recharge.

    Sleep helps a little, but not enough. Time off helps briefly, but the feeling returns.

    What Burnout Actually Is

    Burnout is not just “being tired.” It is a recognised response to chronic, unmanaged stress.

    Research commonly describes three core components (e.g., via the Maslach Burnout Inventory):

    • Emotional and physical exhaustion
    • Increased mental distance or cynicism
    • Reduced sense of effectiveness

    You might also notice:

    • Persistent fatigue
    • Headaches or muscle tension
    • Difficulty concentrating
    • A sense of detachment or numbness

    This is your system signalling that current demands are not sustainable over time.

    Photo by Andy Lee on Pexels.com

    Burnout is particularly common in people who:

    • Take on a high level of responsibility
    • Care about doing things well
    • Find it difficult to set limits
    • Tend to prioritise others’ needs over their own

    This often includes roles like healthcare, education, and caregiving—but it is not limited to these. The common thread is prolonged effort without adequate recovery or support.

    How it develops (often without being noticed)

    Burnout rarely comes from a single event. It tends to build through patterns over time:

    • Saying yes when capacity is already stretched
    • Skipping breaks or working through fatigue
    • Staying in “doing mode” without enough recovery

    At the time, these choices often feel reasonable or necessary. The difficulty is that the cost accumulates gradually.

    There may not be a clear breaking point. Instead, people often describe a moment of realisation:
    “I’m here, but I’m not really functioning the way I used to.”

    A brief note on autistic burnout

    There is also a distinct experience known as autistic burnout, associated with autism spectrum condition.

    While it overlaps with general burnout in terms of exhaustion, it differs in important ways. It often involves a more significant loss of functioning and is linked to long-term mismatch between the person and their environment (e.g., sensory demands, social expectations, masking).

    This is a separate topic, but it is important to recognise that not all burnout experiences are the same.

    What Actually Helps (Spoiler: It’s not a Bubble Bath)

    A common misconception is that burnout can be resolved with quick “self-care” fixes. In practice, recovery usually requires more substantial changes.

    Helpful steps often include:

    • Setting clearer boundaries around time and energy
    • Reducing workload where possible
    • Taking breaks before reaching exhaustion
    • Creating space for genuine rest (not just passive distraction)
    • Talking things through with someone you trust, or a professional

    It can also involve adjusting expectations—doing less, and recognising that this is part of recovery rather than failure.

    Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

    If This Feels Familiar

    Burnout can be difficult to recognise when you are in it, especially if you are used to pushing through.

    If you are noticing that rest is no longer restoring you, or that everyday tasks feel harder than they used to, it is worth paying attention to that.

    Burnout is not a sign of weakness. It is an indication that something about the current way of functioning is not sustainable.

    Recognising it early makes it easier to address before it deepens.

    Feeling this too?
    If any of this hits close to home and you’re ready to talk it through, I’ve got space. You can book a session directly through my website.