fear of french and other imperfections

Parfait

Are you picturing the heavenly concoction made with creamy layers of luscious ice cream, stacked high in a fancy glass with a dollop of whipped cream and a cherry on top?  Don’t.  I am not referring to that yummy dessert, but the French word for perfect.  Damn, was I still craving perfection?  I thought I had kicked the habit along with sugar and wheat.  Guess not, for there it is, tempting me again like a guilty pleasure.

I’ve always wanted to speak French and my daughter-in-law Parisienne  generates additional aspiration.  Taking classes in high school led me to try various taped programs over the years…stacks of cassettes, primers, and dictionaries leaving me with considerable understanding, but not enough to communicate with anyone.  Which, after all, is the purpose of  language, isn’t it?  

Fluency requires a comprehensive program, yet each time I contemplated taking class,  I was struck dumb.  I couldn’t think, my brain scrambled then went blank, and every word that I ever learned in French disappeared entirely.  Frightened to death, I was unable to open my mouth to say anything. So, why would an otherwise intelligent adult be seized by fear of a foreign language?

La Juge

Diving deep into my DNA and psyche, I remember that for me, being an intelligent woman was always conditional. I’m supposed to be perfect—both visually and cognitively.  If looking good is paramount and I open my mouth and sound stupid, it makes me look bad.  Therefore I can’t even try to do anything that may cast aspersions, so instead, I do what I’m good at.  There’s no fear when you’re assured a favorable outcome.

If you excel at many things, you tend to lose perspective and forget that you’re limiting yourself. You may not even be aware that you’re afraid of a faux pas.  How many of us are like that?  I can’t be the only one halting life experiences dead in their tracks, refusing to try in avoidance of my inner critic.  Because, let’s face it, very few of us actually get ridiculed by anyone other than ourselves anymore. 

Once attaining a certain amount of confidence or enlightenment, we leave many of our naysayers behind.  However, that inner judge received its’ training from the major influencers in our lives.  Parents, siblings, spouses, teachers, or friends planted seeds in our brains that have flowered and propagated, becoming louder and stronger than any words ever spoken from their lips.  

Some are beautiful, others horribly ugly, but they run our lives nonetheless.  That is, until we have an awareness of them.  Only then can we shut them up.  

“I’ve made a vow to do things that scare me…take me out of my comfort zone…aren’t expected from me…to strip away pretense and embrace authenticity. Really, it’s time to live my life without restrictions and insecurities—self or otherwise imposed. I’m too old for that!”

That quote, from my very first blog post in April 2016, evokes my mission toward personal growth, taking chances no matter how much it scares me. And I have been, but was obviously unaware of my original default programming still running in the background.  I need to close the window and update the operating system.  C’est possible?

Nouveau et different

Reminding myself that the reason I wasn’t skilled at French was because I hadn’t learned it yet, seemed obvious, but not to my brain.  The limbic system had shifted to high alert—particularly the amygdala, or emotion center, and the hippocampus, which forms new memories about past experiences.

What does that mean?  I’m no scientist, but after reading explanations from a few of them, here’s my take on it.

We know that memories and emotions are stored in your body, which includes your brain.  Any new experience will remind you of an old one; whether good, bad, or indifferent.  That spark of recognition causes you to respond in a similar fashion to the last time you had it.  

In order to push past an old emotion, you must create a new memory involving your current experience.  When you notice an old negative response coming up, break the pattern by doing something different this time.  

So as your stomach turns and the heat rises through your body until your ears burn and colors your face to match a Spanish onion, move forward anyway.  Jump up and down, scream, laugh, call a friend…whatever it takes to thaw your pre-conditioned, frozen state of mind.  

Then, take action toward your desire.  

By doing so, you’ll change the synapse in your brain and whatever caused that fearful feeling will never be quite so painful again.  The worst is over. You’ve proven to yourself that you are brave.  

Many are so terrified of their feelings that they don’t get out of bed in the morning. Don’t let that be you.  Focus on your goal, or how much worse you’d feel if you never even tried to achieve it, and forget about the terror.  I’ve discovered that it gets easier each time.  Really.

Courage

I finally submit my test to the Alliance, speak with the placement advisor, and register for classes that begin the following Tuesday. Stumbling through a few French words when requesting my course manuals made me flush (yep, Spanish-onion-red) and my heart pound, but I survived.

The first class and homework gave me vertigo, nausea, and a headache.   My classmates also expressed anxiety, which, despite our distress, made me feel better somehow.  By the third class, we could laugh at our errors and actually had petites victoires to rejoice in.  I’m still overwhelmed, and expect to be for a long time to come, but have enrolled in the next semester and will continue on until I reach some level of proficiency. 

Refusing to let my feelings of insecurity determine my actions, I’m focusing on my desire, approaching those irregular verb, gender, and conjugation obstacles with both confidence and doubt.  Acknowledging my fear of imperfection and charging ahead in spite of it, seems to be an effective way to overcome it and heal.  

La Fin Parfaite

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