Moving abroad does weird things to your brain. One day, you’re just trying to figure out which trash bin is for glass, and suddenly you’re deep-diving into the history of your own language like you’re writing a dissertation.
That’s been me. Ever since I moved to Europe, I’ve been way more curious about my own culture, my roots, and especially the English language, the thing I’ve been speaking my whole life without ever asking where it actually came from.
Spoiler: it’s very European. Let’s clear this up before the Brits start sharpening their tea spoons. The English language didn’t pop out of nowhere. It’s a European language through and through, shaped by centuries of migration, invasion, and general chaos. The early version of what we’d recognize as English came from a mix of Germanic tribes, mainly the Angles, Saxons, and Jutes, who sailed over to what we now call England during the 5th and 6th centuries.
That’s basically the baby version of English, known as Old English, and if you ever look it up, it reads like someone sat on a keyboard.
Then came the Vikings with their Norse flavor, and later the Normans from France, bringing a very fancy sprinkle of French vocabulary (which is why half our “posh” words sound like they belong on a wine menu). So yes, English is a European patchwork quilt, built by centuries of people drifting in and out of the British Isles.
Here’s where things get more familiar. When British settlers sailed to North America, they didn’t just bring bread, dreams, and questionable hygiene. They carried the language with them. Think of it like packing the original English starter kit and shipping it across the Atlantic.
And interestingly, some things Americans say today are actually older forms of English that the British later changed. For example, “fall” (as in autumn) is an older English word that Americans kept, and the British replaced it with “autumn.”
So the whole “British English is the real English” argument is cute, but history says both sides just evolved differently. Same roots, different accents, same amount of attitude.
Here’s the funny part: I never cared about any of this until I moved abroad. Back home, English was just… the language. The default setting. The thing you grew up with without thinking twice. But living in Spain, surrounded by languages that have their own rhythm and history, made me way more curious about my own. You start noticing things, like how many English words are borrowed from French, or how much German it secretly carries, or how Spanish somehow sneaks in behind your English sentences without permission.
When you hear people speaking English as a second, third, or fourth language, you suddenly appreciate that it’s a global language but a deeply European invention. A messy, beautiful, stolen-and-reworked language that somehow became the world’s unofficial group chat.
Understanding the history of English makes you realize:
- It’s not “American vs British.” It’s a shared family tree.
- It survived invasions, migrations, and the occasional king who couldn’t mind his business.
- It traveled across oceans, picked up new influences, and evolved like a living thing.
And honestly? It makes speaking English feel… richer. Like you’re carrying around this global, ancient, chaotic mixtape every time you open your mouth. Living abroad made me see that more clearly. It made me curious. It made me appreciate my own language, not because it’s better, but because it’s fascinating.
Love always,
American Girl Meets World
