So I decided to learn Italian last month – been wanting to do it forever but always thought it’d take years. That changed when my barista Marco told me “ciao bella” every morning. Figured I could at least learn greetings, right?
Step One: Grabbed this free app everyone talks about (green owl thing). Did the placement test and failed spectacularly. Got demoted to absolute beginner level – kinda humbling for someone who aced English class.
Step Two: Set my phone language to Italian. Worst decision ever at first. Couldn’t find anything! Spent 20 minutes just trying to text my husband “buy milk.” But slowly started recognizing words like “messaggi” for messages and “foto” for photos.
Step Three: Sticky notes everywhere! My kitchen’s now plastered with yellow papers – “forno” on the oven, “lavello” on the sink. Cat thinks it’s decoration and keeps tearing them down. Kept replacing until I memorized them without looking.
Step Four: Started shadowing Italian cooking videos. Felt ridiculous alone in my kitchen yelling “aglio!” while chopping garlic. Burnt dinner twice because I got distracted repeating phrases. Husband asked if I was summoning demons.
Step Five: Braved a conversation with Marco. Prepared all day to say “un caffè per favore.” Heart was pounding like giving a TED talk. He answered in rapid Italian and I froze like a deer. Managed to croak “grazie” at least.
Step Six: Found language exchange meetups. First session was brutal – everyone spoke way faster than my app. Mostly smiled and nodded while secretly reviewing flash cards under the table. Left with three new words: “lento” (slow), “ripeti” (repeat), and “ancora” (again).
Step Seven: Changed tactics and sang instead. Streamed Italian pop playlists during commute. Belted out wrong lyrics until my neighbor tapped on the car window asking if I needed help. At least the melody stuck.
Step Eight: Went full immersion Tuesday. Spoke only Italian at home. Hubby nearly cried when I called dinner “cibo terribile” instead of “just okay.” Messed up laundry instructions and turned his white shirt pink. His response? “Bella… like sunset.” Romantic dude even when I ruin his clothes.
Can I hold deep conversations? Dio mio no! But yesterday I actually understood Marco asking if I wanted “normale o decaffeinato” without hand gestures. Baby steps feel huge when you’re fumbling through. Already planning how to say “I set the toaster on fire” for next week’s vocabulary!
