^^It works both ways, Leslie. I worked very hard on my Swedish. I worked on the grammar and even the accent I thought was best. The first dinner date with the woman who was to become my wife, she asked me to please not murder her language so, and asked that we switch to English.
I didn’t speak a word of Swedish to that woman for the next ten years. And that was to my detriment, not hers. If I hadn’t allowed myself to be so damned self conscious by her one remark, I would have had a great teacher, but I didn’t. I allowed that woman, who I was madly in love with and to whom I assigned too much authority, to intimidate me. It was my choice, my fault and to my detriment.
Years later, after we had moved to the US, she asked why we never spoke Swedish in the house when she had heard me speak it proficiently elsewhere, I told her the story of our first date. She didn’t remember a bit of it. She had no idea.