Magdalena Hoeller

And if one partner doesn't understand the joke, the other is stuck trying to explain it to them, and that conversation is never funny.

From a producing side, we all know that producing humor in a second language is an incredibly difficult skill to master.

There are so many elements to get right.

The subtext of a joke, the punchline, the context, the delivery, all while making sure that it's appropriate and, well, funny.

Right?

Now, in my research with intercultural couples, they all confirmed that they feel less funny when joking in a second language with their partners.

Can you imagine what that does to your self-esteem and to your couple dynamic?

In one particular interview, one of the male participants said about his wife, I don't think she's ever made me laugh in English.

She's a German speaker.

Now, these sentiments aren't uncommon.

Even I can attest to that.

I always felt that I was effortlessly hilarious in Austrian German, but I couldn't bring that same energy to English, and I was so disheartened that my husband would never know the true comedic genius his wife actually is.

Such a tragedy.

But that's the problem here.

Humor, or the lack thereof, can create distance between partners.

It can stop us from truly knowing each other.

I've left the last challenge for you, which I find the most interesting one, and it is also the most hidden one.

It is something couples deal with, and it is so subtle, they very often don't even notice.

And it is the hidden power dynamics between intercultural partners.

From a pure language perspective, and we're only talking language here, there is always a partner who is linguistically superior and someone who is inferior.