Growing up, English was never easy for me. My parents had studied in regional language schools, and we didn’t speak much English at home. I hadn’t been to tuition classes either. When I switched to a convent school in grade 2, I felt completely lost. Everyone around me seemed so fluent, and I struggled to keep up.
But one thing I did have? A love for stories.
My dad noticed it early on. To help me, he started bringing home storybooks of fairy tales, adventures, anything he could find. That small gesture changed everything. I wasn’t just reading for school anymore, I was reading for fun. And slowly, that love for stories turned into a love for words.
I had a special diary where I wrote down every new or interesting word I came across. I’d underline it in the book, look up the meaning, and then write it down neatly in my log. But I didn’t stop there. I made it a point to use at least five new words the next day in school, slipping them into conversations as naturally as possible. Looking back, it feels like such a simple habit.
It was awkward at first. Sometimes I’d use a word wrong or forget what it meant. But over time, it became a fun little challenge I set for myself. And that’s how I built my vocabulary. Not through coaching classes or grammar tuition, but by a genuine love for stories.
