At a glance
You can get through a whole day in the local language and still have nowhere to say what is weighing on you. The capable person others see and the unspoken one inside are both you, and living with the gap between them is tiring. This article looks at how therapy in English can bring the two closer.
Clinical insights from 22 years in psychotherapy
I’m Mark Colclough, MA, psychotherapist in Copenhagen. Qualified at the Psychosynthesis Education Trust and the University of East London. 22 years of full-time, face-to-face clinical practice.
- Smooth accounts. Clients who manage a working life in a second or third language often tell me about a painful month in such tidy sentences that the feeling stays out of the room, so I listen for how even the voice is.
- Background fatigue. Clients living abroad describe giving up on saying what they mean, because each attempt needs so much context first that silence feels easier.
- An unasked question. Clients rarely wonder which language their feelings live in until I ask, and the answer often surprises them.
Clinical notes: My observations are anonymised and compounded from my session notes since 2004.
Why can’t the language I live in reach what I feel?
Because the part of you that copes and the part of you that feels were often formed in different languages. You can chair the meeting, catch the joke and write the awkward message to the landlord, and still discover that what frightens, shames or angers you is kept somewhere the everyday language does not go.
Many people tell me the trouble is not missing words. It is listening to yourself report a hard season accurately and feeling oddly untouched by your own account. The grammar holds, and your heart is somewhere else. Then the calm of the telling persuades you it cannot have been so bad, and you keep carrying it.
That inner language holds a great deal, often from early life. A conversation that never touches it can stay a polished summary of your life rather than a meeting with it.
Is therapy in English by video a real option, or second best?
Working wholly in English by video, from wherever you live, can be a complete way of doing therapy. Every contact, every session and whatever we agree in between happens in English, on a screen, in a room of your choosing.
English is not neutral ground, and it does not need to be. What helps is that you can skip the long preamble about the country you live in, the workplace you are learning or the family you come from, and get to the sentence you came to say.
Who will I be talking to?
A therapist who has lived on both sides of a language divide. I was born in London and grew up English until the age of 12, when my family moved to Denmark and I grew up Danish as well. Both languages are fully mine, and I know both cultures from living them rather than reading about them.
Since then I have lived and worked in nine countries. I know what it is to arrive without the language and build a life regardless. Speaking two languages is the lesser part. Having two cultural homes matters more in the work, because what people bring is seldom only about words.
In practice, this spares you translating your life before you can speak about it. If you tell me something would be unthinkable where you grew up, or that a colleague’s blunt remark has stayed with you for days, I can follow both ends of it, and the hour goes on what it did to you.
Is it the language, or the culture I live in?
Usually both, and one is often taken for the other. People come convinced that their grasp of the local language is the obstacle, and it turns out that no one explained what a pause after a direct question means where they now live, or how sparingly warmth is put into words there.
- Plain is not cold. A reply that would sound curt at home may carry no edge in your new country, and taking it as rejection can cost months of feeling unwanted.
- Complaining has its own volume. What counts as letting off steam in one place can sound dramatic in another, so some people quietly stop mentioning when they are struggling.
- Duty does not travel well. Family obligations that are simply given where you come from can look like control to a partner or friend raised elsewhere, and you find yourself defending what was never in question.
One more pattern is common enough to mention. In English, people sometimes say things they were brought up never to say. The rules learned in childhood were set down in a different language and hold less firmly in this one, so a session in a later language can turn out to be the most candid hour of the month rather than the most muted.
Will a second language cost me something in therapy?
A little immediacy, and usually less than people expect. In my reading of the research on multilingual counselling, a review of 18 studies1 found that the choice of language affects how much say clients feel they have in the work, that people switch languages to reach memories or find the exact word for a feeling, and that emotional nuance is easily lost when meaning passes through translation. The studies were mostly Western and published in English, and their findings were mixed, so they point to a pattern rather than measure one. It fits what I hear in sessions.
So let your first language come into the session too. When the English word is wrong, say the word in your own language and then tell me what it holds. Words for home, for obligation and for a particular shade of shame often surface this way. It takes a moment, and sometimes it shifts the whole direction of the hour.
How do I begin, and when is English the wrong choice?
Settle the question of language before the first session, so it does not take over the session itself. A few ways in:
- Notice which language fear speaks. If you were frightened, which language would come out? That is often where the oldest feelings live, and it helps to know it even if we never use it.
- Tell me all the languages you have. The one you dream in and the one you steer away from included.
- Try the hardest sentence twice. Say it once in English and once in your own language, and see which version you manage to finish.
- Agree what happens when words run out. Silence, a phrase in your own language or a note typed on your phone: decided beforehand, it no longer feels like failing.
English is the wrong choice when what needs attention is very early and barely has words, when you are so worn out that translating drains what little you have left, or when you realise that for years you have described your life in English in a voice your own family would not recognise. Then a therapist who works in your first language is the better fit, and I would tell you so rather than hold on to the work.
If you would rather find out how the language feels in practice than weigh it up in theory, a first session will tell you more than further deliberation.
Questions people ask
Are the sessions in English all the way through?
Yes, from the first message to the last session, and in Danish if you prefer. Any messages between sessions are in your chosen language too.
Can I use my own language during a session?
Yes, and it is often one of the most useful moments in a session. Let the phrase come as it is, then tell me what it carries for you.
Does my English need to be fluent?
No, it needs to be good enough for you to be understood, which is far less than fluency. Pauses and a smaller vocabulary are fine when the pace is deliberately unhurried.
Can I have sessions by video wherever I live?
Yes, all my sessions are by video, so you can join from any country with a stable connection. Many people find their first language comes more easily from their own home.
Should I wait until I speak the local language better?
No, waiting for a language to improve is often a way of putting off the subject. If something is troubling you now, start with the words you have today.
If you live abroad and want to talk in English, you can read about online psychotherapy or about me to decide whether this is the right fit.
Sources
How this article was written: I choose the subject and the angle. An AI assistant researches and drafts. I read the draft, correct and improve it and stand behind every clinical statement. The professional and clinical judgement is mine.
