My Husband’s Family Made Fun Of My Accent—So I Pretended Not To Speak English At Christmas
I walked in with a plate of pastries just in time to hear his cousin whisper, “Let’s hope she doesn’t say ‘beach’ like ‘b*tch’ again.”
They all laughed—including him.
My face burned. I’ve spoken English for twenty years—it’s fluent, just accented. He once told me he loved that. I guess not enough to defend it.
So, I got even.
When his aunt asked for the potatoes, I smiled and said, “Lo siento, no entiendo.”
And for the rest of Christmas dinner, I spoke only Spanish.
When his cousin asked how I even talked to him, I switched back—perfect English.
“Oh, I understand everything. I just didn’t feel like joining in.”
Silence. Then I stood up and said, “By the way, it’s pronounced beach. Like where you all need to chill.”
His grandma clapped—and followed me out.
Later, she told me, “They were wrong. You reminded them how to be right.”
It took months, apologies, and real effort before things healed. But I learned something that night:
Your accent is proof you’re brave enough to speak another language.
And anyone who laughs at that? Doesn’t deserve a seat at your table.
