There was a moment at work recently when something unexpected happened.
I was presenting patients, something I have done many times before, when I suddenly felt tired. Not physically tired, but mentally exhausted.
My thoughts seemed to slow down. Words that I knew did not come as easily as they normally would. I stumbled over what I was trying to say,
And for a brief moment, I did not want to speak anymore. So, I stopped, excused myself and asked the nurse manager for a leave for that day.
Wondering how that was possible? It is a part of the Danish work culture. Your mental health is taken seriously. So, I was allowed to take the day off.
This occurrence stayed with me because I have spoken Danish for more than 15 years. I studied nursing in Danish and use it at work. This does not mean that
there hadn’t been incidents where I had a brain fog or where I couldn’t find the right words, but I always bounced back immediately. But this day was unique.
I speak with patients, colleagues and other healthcare professionals using this language. A large part of my adult life has happened in this language.
Therefore, by most standards, I am fluent.
So why was I so tired?
When fluency doesn’t mean effortless
For a long time, I think I held a simple assumption about language where you struggle in the beginning, then you learn and improve.
But eventually, become fluent.
But somewhere in that idea of fluency is the assumption that the effort disappears. And what if it doesn’t completely disappear?
What if, even after many years, part of your mind is still doing work you no longer consciously notice?
Like trying to choose your words carefully while reading the tone.
Listening for small changes in meaning and making sure you have understood correctly.
Most of the time, I don’t actively think about any of this. I simply speak Danish.
But that moment at work assured me that the effort can still be there, quietly happening in the background.
Language at work carries another weight
Working in another language is not only about knowing vocabulary, which is especially true in nursing where communication has consequences.
Because you need to understand what a patient is telling you and notice uncertainty, confusion and changes at the same time.
You must be able to disseminate information to your colleagues clearly and concisely.
Educate your patients so they thoroughly understand every diagnosis, treatment, and do’s and don’ts.
Clear communication with colleagues is essential because it is a great way of presenting accurate information about a patient,
which is great for continuity in care.
You sometimes need to find the right words quickly, because there is professional knowledge involved, but there is also language, tone, timing and confidence.
And perhaps that was part of what I felt that day. Not an inability to speak Danish. Nor a lack of professional competence. But effort.
The hidden work of living in another language
The more I thought about it, the more I realised this question was bigger than one difficult moment at work.
What happens when you build an entire adult life in a language that was not yours at birth?
You don’t only learn how to order food or ask for directions.
You learn how to study, work, explain yourself, and disagree. And to comfort someone, sound professional while doing so.
You also learn to be funny and, at the same time, be yourself.
And perhaps we don’t talk enough about the quiet mental work that can come with that, especially after many years.
By then, people see fluency. Sometimes, you see fluency too.
The struggle of the beginning is long behind you.
But fluency and effort are not always the same thing.
I am still thinking about this
I don’t have a neat conclusion.
I am not even sure I fully understand what happened to me that day.
But it made me curious about language, the mind, and identity
And also about the experiences we become so accustomed to carrying that we stop noticing their weight.
That is one of the reasons I started Conversations with Folasade.
To explore the experiences that often sit quietly beneath the surface of the lives we build.
Maybe you live in another language too.
Maybe you have experienced a moment when words suddenly felt heavier than they normally do.
Or perhaps your experience is completely different.
I would genuinely like to know.
Have you ever felt mentally tired from speaking or working in another language—even after becoming fluent?
Continue the conversation
Stories become more meaningful when we share them. If this experience felt familiar, I’d love to hear your perspective.
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