My Story: An English Self-Introduction, A New Chapter in Chinese
Hello. My name is Li Hua. This is my story, told in simple English, but its heart is now writing a new chapter in Chinese.
I was born and raised in a *all town near the mountains. My childhood was filled with the *ell of wet earth after rain and the sound of my grandmother’s stories. I learned English from a young age. At first, it was just a subject in school, rows of strange letters and sounds. But soon, it became a window. Through this window, I read about worlds far from my mountains—cities like London and New York, stories of adventures and ideas I had never imagined. English became my tool, my voice to explore.
I used this tool to introduce my hometown in school competitions. I described our green tea fields and the old stone bridge. I wrote essays about Chinese festivals, translating the warmth of family reunions during Mid-Autumn into foreign words. It felt powerful, like building a bridge from my world to another.
Then, I went to university in a big city. Here, I met people from different parts of China and the world. I used English more. I ordered coffee, made friends, and discussed projects. But something slowly changed. The more I used English to explain who I was, the more I felt a distance. How do you translate the deep, quiet feeling of watching dawn over a misty mountain? Some things got lost between the languages.
That’s when the new chapter began. I started to look back, not just out. I realized my first story, the one written in the grammar of my heart, was in Chinese. It was in the proverbs my grandfather taught me, in the lyrics of the folk songs from my region, in the unspoken understanding between my parents. My English self-introduction was true, but it was a map. My Chinese life was the actual, living territory.
Now, I see both languages as parts of my story. English is my outstretched hand, my way of connecting and learning. It is the clear, structured narrative I share. But Chinese is my roots, my breath, and the ink for my new chapter. It holds the complexities, the emotions, and the silent history that shape me. I am not switching from one language to the other. I am learning to let them coexist. I use English to open doors and Chinese to build my home inside.
So, this is me. My past has an English voice, telling my tale to the wider world. My present and future are actively writing themselves in Chinese, delving deeper into the meaning of my own culture and personal journey. The story continues, bilingual at its core, forever weaving together the view from the window and the feel of the homeland.