On the long forgotten, 4th of May 1997, I arrived in Australia with only a few words of English under my belt. While I was for the first time, sitting on an aeroplane, crossing over the huge and enormous Australian land, I saw two beautiful rainbows and my heart started to dance with joy with the hope that beautiful things will happen to me and that Australia will be my permanent home. How I was mistaken.
I struggled with the English language and my heavy accent was not in my favour. For many many years, with every corner of my heart, I wanted English to be my first language. From the moment when I landed, I never touched any dictionaries or read anything that was not written in English. I learned to speak while I was working and developed, as many migrants do, unforgivable grammatical mistakes, according to many native English-speaking people. I finished so many courses and even university and read so many books that I don’t dare to count. But, my broken English and heavy accent followed me wherever I would go. And mind you, it is still doing so. Deep down, my limitation in English proficiency slapped me on the face a million times from the perception of others and indirect punishment even in educational settings. I simply accepted my fate based on the belief that it was my fault and that I should sit and learn English, while at the same time, I felt a huge resistance towards that idea due to my chaotically busy and challenging life. Until one day, everything changed.
I clearly remembered as if it is happening right now, I made the final decision to end my unfulfilling marriage while at the same time I was quite aware of the responsibility that I was taking on my shoulders. To overcome my extreme, challenging situation, I started to work 120 hours per week, looking after 3 small children and my elderly mother. Exhausted and tired beyond comprehension, one cold night in 2013 when my daughter was just 14, I needed to go grocery shopping or we would not have any bread or milk in our home. I clearly remembered it was nearly 8pm. I was so tired that I could hardly breathe and clearly, I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t have a choice because my mum chose to never drive a car in Australia. I went with my daughter to the local shopping centre and we bought basic items and I knew there was about 15 of them when I stepped in the express lane. “There is two of us. I am so so tired. We will be fine” I frantically tried to justify to myself, while I patiently waited in line with my daughter. When we finally came in front of the approximately 16 year old, young girl, I profusely started to apologised to her clearly stating that we had more than 12 items, but there is two of us and I hoped that she would understand.
She looked at me, totally ignoring my apology and with a voice of superiority and eyes of belittlement, she sharply and loudly enough so the people behind me could clearly hear, declared: “This is the express lane and you should not be here”, while at the same time she was starting to process my items. “I am so sorry” I heard my small voice apologising to her, while the pressure of her energy and words were squashing me. I felt ashamed and more ashamed when I glanced back and looked at all the people in line who simply just put their head down, feeling the treatment that I received, while at the same time, I also believed that I deserved it, because in my mind, it was my fault and I had become accustomed. I looked at my daughter and found that she had walked out from the shop, standing about two metres away from us, blushed and ashamed and the pain in my heart at that moment hit rock bottom. I grabbed my bags and in two steps found myself next to my daughter and she started to walk, I took one step forward and, in that moment, something broke inside of me and I told my daughter, “please wait”.
I turned around and, in a few steps, I found myself in front of the girl that just served me. In a calm and clear voice and totally collected manner that even surprised me, I quickly apologised to the person that she was serving and turned towards the young girl and simply told her: “You are so young and you still have time to become a better person than you are right now.” In that moment, her face blushed and she put her head down and with the depth of my heart, I hoped that she would take my suggestion to become the better version of herself. Once again, I quickly took a glimpse at the people in the line and this time around, I saw all of them smiling and looking at me with relief and approval. My heart then turned towards my daughter and she looked at me with the biggest and brightest smile that lifted my heart with joy and healed nearly 16 years of abuse. In that moment I decided that I speak and write the best English language on the planet called Sanela’s English.
Interestingly, although from that moment, my grammar did not change, my accent did not disappear, everything around me magically changed. Now, I use my Sanela’s English as the best tool when I communicate with others, because now I am in control and I clearly know who I am dealing with, even before they can decide who I am. So unbelievably, from that moment, no one ever abused me again about my broken English. Clearly, everyone feels and simply understood that I speak the best language on the planet, Sanela’s English. 
Today, as a prominent psychotherapist, I more deeply and more profoundly connect with my clients based on the fact, that their personal limitations I truly understand. I simply know how to help them to use their limitations well instead to feel tormented by them.
However, now I wonder, what kind of limitation/s have you shifted around and utilised today as your most powerful tool? Or do you still need help to shift them around?
