Dear 10-year-old Carla,
It’s halfway through the school term and a new boy has joined your class. He’s just moved from Chile and his English is broken. Though nervous, he smiles sweetly around the room at everyone. He’s absolutely adorable, and you are instantly smitten.
Despite being in the throws of a primary school crush, you’ll never go over and talk to him. Why? Because you know you’re not like the pretty girls that boys whisper about in the playground. You’ve noticed that none of the dolls in the toy shops wear glasses like you, and none of them have buck teeth like yours. Tall and gangly, you stoop self-consciously when standing among peers, desperate to blend in. You’ve concluded that you’ll never be enough to win this new boy’s heart, but it’s OK. You’re determined and you plot the perfect solution.
At home you tell your Dad about the new boy at school, and explain, in no uncertain terms, that you must learn Spanish immediately. Your Dad is a good egg and, to this day, he’s always looking out for you, coming to the rescue when your car breaks down or when you get too drunk at a party. But, let’s return to your current dilemma. Dad comes back from work the next evening with a children’s ‘Learn Spanish’ book, and he sits to read it with you.
Sadly, the Chilean lad moves school before you can surprise him with your skills. However, something about putting meaning to these jargon words sparks a fascination in you and for your next birthday, you ask for some Teach Yourself Dutch books so you can talk to your relatives who live out there. You’ve found your passion.
Carla, I’m delighted to tell you that 15 years on, you now have a degree in Modern Languages. You’ve lived in four countries and have friends all over the world. It’s been incredible, and it all started because you were 10 years old and hated how you looked.
And, by the way, you’re now dating a wonderful man, who calls you beautiful every single day.
Ciao for now, 10 year old Carla xx
