Mind your language v2

Today I want to put into words how excluded I feel when people around me speak an uncommon language. It doesn't matter what your relationship with them is like, or what the context is, but in those moments when they're communicating with each other in words that are familiar only to them and not you, it feels like—

"My feelings are valid," I chant to myself internally, while acknowledging the fact that this behaviour isn't exclusionary in the least; I'm the outsider. I wonder, again, if understanding what was being said would make any difference. Would it make any difference if I could say something back as a non-native?

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We went swimming the other day. It was my first time in the water. I was taught to get comfortable with the water, do some basic strokes and float. It roughly took me an hour to learn to float and then there was no looking back for me. What they don't tell you about floating is that your ears are under water. This means that all the sounds of the world are on mute in real life. Once you start to feel okay with the mildly strange feeling of having your ear canal filled with water, not hearing anything while having let go are a killer combination.

If I wanted, I could have floated out into the deep end of the lake but I don't yet feel safe being in an area where I can't get my feet on the ground if I wanted.

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Sometimes it is okay when you give and you give and give and don't get anything at all in return. As tired as it might make you feel to be a recipient of nothing, you should know that these are batteries that never die out. You'll feel okay again. And you'll give and you'll give and you'll give some more. I hope you know that one can only gain by giving — there are no losses involved here.