"You're the English teacher's daughter. How can you not understand English?"
That question pulled in my mind as I entered a school where every subject was taught in English. For most of my childhood, the language felt distant. My mother, a single parent, moved us to the capital for her teaching job, and through her position, I received a scholarship to attend that school. It was an opportunity—but also a responsibility I felt every day.
For years, English was both a barrier and a mirror. My classmates spoke it naturally, while I struggled to keep up and often stayed silent in class discussions.
To improve, I rebuilt the language step by step. Paragraphs became puzzles I worked through at home, and textbooks turned into challenges I slowly learned to navigate. Music became my escape: even when I did not fully understand the lyrics, I connected with their emotion. Playing guitar also helped me express what I could not yet say in words.
Over time, persistence changed everything. From sixth to ninth grade, I faced doubts and comparisons, but each challenge strengthened my determination. Slowly, English became less of an obstacle and more of a passion.
Today, I read, write, and participate in discussions with confidence. I am preparing for the Cambridge B1 and B2 exams. I have learned what language represents more than words.
Watching my mother teach reinforced this lesson. I saw how language can open opportunities. It showed me that communication is not just about grammar, but about giving people a voice.
I now understand that belonging is built. I want to study communication and political science to help others find their voice and to use storytelling as a way to connect people across different experiences. English was my first challenge, but it has become my bridge to understanding the world and my way of expressing who I am.