Have you ever felt like a different person depending on the language you’re speaking? It’s a little like orienting yourself to fit into different surroundings with their own quirks, strengths, and even fears. For me, it’s a constant dance between Bahasa Melayu and English—two languages that have shaped not just how I speak, but how I see the world, and most importantly, myself.
Let’s start with Bahasa Melayu, what is supposedly my mother tongue—the language that connects me to my roots. But, ironically, it’s the language that often leaves me tongue-tied and exhausted.
You see, when I speak in Malay, I stutter. It’s a stutter that emerges from memories of being constantly cut off as a child. I remember trying to share my thoughts, only to be interrupted before I could even finish. Those moments weren’t just about words; they were about feeling unheard. Over time, they chipped away at my confidence, leaving me hesitant every time I opened my mouth to speak Malay.
Then there was the teasing: “Kau cakap laju sangat! Cuba pelahan sikit.”—a criticism that became the soundtrack of my childhood conversations. I didn’t know how to slow down, or maybe I didn’t want to. My brain was racing, eager to get the words out before someone would silence me again. But the more I was teased, the more self-conscious I became, until eventually, speaking Malay out loud felt like navigating a minefield.
And then there’s English. Glorious, liberating English.
Unlike Malay, English came rather naturally to me, one that slips with ease. I grew up surrounded by English media—TV shows, books, movies—so much so that it became my inner language. When I speak English, I feel like I’m holding the reins, guiding the conversation, fully in control. There’s no stutter, no second-guessing, no criticism. The words come naturally, flowing in sync with my thoughts.
It’s in English that I feel most confident, most myself. I can explain, persuade, argue, and express my excitement without stumbling over my own words. It’s as if English gives me permission to be bold, to take up space, to exist. And whenever a conversation becomes interesting—when my passion for a topic flares up—I instinctively switch to English. It’s like my brain knows that this language will let me dive deeper, go faster, and express more.
I must admit, there’s a kind of magic in switching between two languages. One minute, I’m speaking Malay—careful, measured, aware of every word. Next, I’m soaring in English, my confidence rising with each syllable. I’ve learned to navigate the push and pull between these two languages, and with each switch, I discover something new about myself.
In Malay, I’m quieter, more reflective, perhaps even a little guarded. But in English, I’m vibrant, animated, and fully present. The fascinating part is that both versions of me are real—they’re just expressed differently depending on the language I’m using.
So, what does it mean to live with a bilingual personality? It simply means accepting the hesitations, the fast-talking, the stuttering, and the confidence that comes with switching between languages. It’s about understanding that both Bahasa Melayu and English are integral parts of who I am, shaping not just my communication, but the way I relate to the world.
It’s taken time, but I’ve learned to embrace both sides of me: the one who stumbles in Malay, but is deeply connected to culture, and the one who thrives in English, where I feel like I can be heard in all my complexity.
In the end, being bilingual isn’t just about mastering two languages. It’s about navigating two different worlds with two very complex personalities, even if it means one is quieter than the other.
By Mr. Irfan Monier