writing this between
my daughter's Muay Thai class
and my own French podcast queue
In 9th grade, I sold my French essays to classmates who wanted to quit the class with a decent grade. Third successful business, after babysitting and tutoring — I was a menace, honestly. But I loved that language. The grammar was absurd, the vocabulary was relentless, and every inch of progress had to be fought for.
By senior year I'd majored in French. Technically, that put me at C2 — the official fluency level. And I still froze every single time someone found out I "spoke French" and asked me to prove it. It felt like a lie. I was technically advanced and practically terrified.
"I stopped needing to be amazing at French, and started letting myself just enjoy it. That's exactly when the progress kicked in."
Somewhere between building a business, living in Bali, Amsterdam and London, and landing in the top 1% of wealth in my own country, I let go of the idea that French had to be a performance. I started reading books I actually liked. Listening to things that made me laugh. And — slowly, without forcing it — I started thinking in French. Then dreaming in it. wild, right
I'm well past C2 now, and I still feel like a beginner most weeks. That's not a flaw in the process — that IS the process. I'm not a certified French teacher and never have been. What I am is someone who built a habit of immersion that actually worked, after years of the classroom version doing absolutely nothing. That's what I'm handing you.