In English meetings, she always had something to say. She just never spoke.

In English meetings, she always had something to say. She just never spoke.

She was a senior executive. Experienced, sharp, respected in her field. But in English, she compared herself to everyone else in the room and always came last.

Everyone else is so much better than I am,” she told me. (I hear this more than any other sentence.) So she waited. The meeting ended. Her ideas stayed inside.

The comparison was the problem. Her English was fine. She was measuring herself against a standard that existed only in her head.

Her perspective was exactly what the room needed. It always had been.

Quick win: Next time you hesitate, ask yourself, “Do I have something useful to say?” If yes, say it. The English will follow.

Then or than — the one‑letter difference that changes your meaning

Then or than — the one‑letter difference that changes your meaning

Most grammar details don’t matter. This one does.

A client sent me a report last month. Seven times she wrote ‘then’ when she meant ‘than‘. She hadn’t noticed a single one – and neither had the colleague who checked it.

The difference is small but real.

Then is about time – what comes next.

Than is about comparison – what is more, less, better, worse.

Quick win:

Comparing two things? It’s than. “Better than expected.” “More than enough.”

Describing what comes next? It’s then. “First the call, then the email.”

Better English than last year. That’s the whole goal.

Better English than last year. That’s the whole goal.

Most professionals I work with set a different one. Perfect grammar, no mistakes, native fluency.

Seth Godin put it well recently: “The search for perfect never ends, and it’s a great place to hide”.

He was writing about careers. But I see it with English every week. Emails not sent, meetings skipped and promotion conversations put off until the English is “ready”.

Better is already here. Better is one word you use more confidently than last month, one meeting where you spoke instead of waiting.

Quick win: Next time you hesitate, ask yourself, “Is my English better than last year?” Then speak.

“How do I stop apologising in English?”

“How do I stop apologising in English?”

“How do I stop apologising in English?”

Someone asked me this last week. She’d counted: seven apologies in one meeting. None of them necessary.

The apology reflex is understandable. It feels polite, it feels safe. But it quietly signals to the room that something has gone wrong. Usually nothing has.

The practical shift: replace the apology with something neutral.

“Sorry for the late reply” → “Thank you for your patience.”
“Sorry, can you repeat that?” → “Could you say that again, please?
“Sorry to interrupt” → “I’d like to add something here.

Same meaning. No apology.

Every unnecessary apology trains your brain to treat English as a risk.

You can train it differently – one sentence at a time.

The myth of thinking in English

The myth of thinking in English

People often tell me, “I want to think in English.”

It feels like the goal – it isn’t.

A client said this week: “If I could just switch my brain to English, speaking would be easy.

But fluent speakers don’t think in English.

They think in ideas – and the words follow.

Your brain doesn’t switch languages like software.

It works in images, intentions, connections.

When you speak your native language, the words appear so fast you don’t notice the process.

In English, the same process is just a little slower, so you do notice it – and then you judge it.

The problem isn’t that you’re thinking in German.

The problem is believing you shouldn’t.

Quick win:

Next time you speak English, don’t force yourself to “think in English”.

Start with the idea you want to express.

Let the words come in whatever order they arrive.

That’s how fluent speakers do it – in every language.

The moment you lose your words

The moment you lose your words

There’s a moment many people know too well.

You’re in a meeting, someone asks you something in English, and suddenly – nothing.

The word you need is gone. Your mind goes blank. Your body tightens. You feel yourself disappearing from the conversation.

A client told me this week: “It’s like my brain shuts down. I know the answer. I just can’t say it.

And here’s what we discovered:

It wasn’t vocabulary.

It wasn’t grammar.

It was pressure.

When you panic, your brain doesn’t look for words. It looks for safety.

And silence feels safer than speaking.

The solution isn’t more English.

It’s less fear.

Quick win:

When you lose your words, don’t freeze. Say one simple sentence:

Give me a second.

It buys you time, lowers the pressure and brings the words back.