French verb conjugations. Just saying those words might make your brain feel like it is doing cartwheels or running a marathon it did not sign up for. I get it. I have wrestled with them myself, more times than I can count on both hands. Those sneaky little verb endings that change with the subject, mood, tense, and sometimes even emotion – well, they can be as confusing as trying to solve a puzzle while riding a rollercoaster.
Yet, I love French. The way it flows, the way it sounds when someone says “Je t’aime” (yes, I got a little mushy there), and yes, even those tricky verbs. But I wanted to find a way to remember all those “-er,” “-ir,” and “-re” endings without feeling like my brain was melting. So, I built my own personal toolbox. Nothing fancy, just real, raw, and practical stuff that helped me turn those verb nightmares into friendly little puzzles I could solve — usually with a smile.
Want to peek into how I do it? Grab your imaginary beret and let’s go.
Why French Verbs Feel Like a Maze
Before we get to my secret weapons, let’s just acknowledge one thing. French verbs are complicated. There are regular and irregular verbs, different groups, plus tenses that seem to have no end — passé composé, imparfait, futur simple, subjonctif… The list keeps going. It can feel like trying to learn a whole new language just with verbs alone.
But… the truth is, they all follow patterns, even the irregular ones (sort of). Once you see the patterns, those scary verbs become less like enemies and more like familiar faces.
Still, patterns alone do not stick in the brain forever. My old method of memorizing was simple rote repetition — writing out endless conjugations, repeating them like a robot. Spoiler: it did not work. I forgot everything by the next day. I needed more.
My First Personal Tool: Turning Verbs into Stories
Yep, stories. Humans are wired to remember stories far better than random lists of letters or endings. So why not make verbs into tiny tales?
For example, take the verb aller (to go). Instead of just memorizing:
- Je vais
- Tu vas
- Il/elle va
I picture this: “Je vais” is me, hopping excitedly to a café. “Tu vas” is my friend zooming on a scooter. “Il va” is a dog running happily in the park. By attaching little mental images to each form, my brain lights up with colors and emotions. Suddenly, those endings have faces and movement.
You can do this with any verb. Pick one you struggle with and invent a mini-movie. The sillier, the better. I once imagined “nous finissons” (we finish) as a team of clumsy cats trying to finish their homework on time. It cracks me up, and it sticks in my memory.
Try it yourself:
- Choose a verb you need to learn.
- Visualize each conjugation as a character or action.
- Make it funny, absurd, or heartwarming.
- Retell the story to yourself before sleep or when walking.
This personal storytelling approach was a game-changer. It brought warmth and humor to something that felt cold and boring before.
Sticky Notes, But With a Twist
I used to hate sticky notes. They cluttered my room and seemed pointless. But then, I gave them a job with personality.
I created what I call my “Verb Wall.” It is a small corner on my desk covered with color-coded sticky notes. Each color means something — pink for regular “-er” verbs, blue for the tricky irregulars, green for verbs that only show up in fancy tenses.
But here is the twist — each note has two things:
- The verb conjugated with a little phrase I can say aloud (like “Je mange bien.”)
- A short personal reminder or question in my handwriting (“What did I eat yesterday?”)
That question forces me to use the verb in a real context rather than just staring at endings. When I catch myself daydreaming, my eyes land on the sticky note, and the question pulls me back into practice. It feels less like homework and more like a conversation with a friend.
Plus, I rearranged the notes every couple of days, mixing them up so I do not get lazy and just glance without thinking. This little physical act of moving, reading, and talking to my sticky notes made a surprising big difference.
Audio Playlists for When I Am Not “Learning”
Sometimes, I am totally over grabbing my notebook or staring at colorful walls. But I still want my brain to dance with French verbs. Enter: my audio playlists.
I record myself reading out verbs and sentences, mixing in favorite songs or even silly comments. Hearing my own voice repeat “Je suis, tu es, il est” – it burns those forms deeper into my mind than just seeing them on paper.
The magic happens when I toss on these recordings during mundane moments: walking the dog, washing dishes, or waiting in line. Suddenly, even chore time becomes a mini French lesson. My brain picks up patterns almost without me trying.
Bonus: I throw in little jokes or stories between verb lists to keep my mood light (because nobody wants to study bored out of their mind). I remember once saying, “Tu danses comme une étoile… une étoile un peu maladroite!” which means “You dance like a star… a slightly clumsy star!” It made me chuckle and stayed with me.
How to start your own verb playlist:
- Pick 5–10 verbs for a short session.
- Record yourself saying each form, plus a sentence or two.
- Add some personal comments or jokes.
- Listen on repeat during daily routines.
Flashcards, But Not Boring Ones
I tried using flashcards the “old school” way — black-and-white text, no flair, just plain words. Yawn. I kept losing interest.
So, I jazzed them up. Each flashcard features not only the verb and its conjugations but also a doodle I drew to capture the feeling or meaning. For “courir” (to run), I sketched a cartoon runner panting at the finish line. For “prendre” (to take), I drew a hand grabbing a pastry because, hey, who does not like pastries?
The mix of art, humor, and language kept me curious. When I pulled out the cards, it was less like study time and more like a glimpse into my own funny sketchbook.
The occasional odd doodle sparked little memories that made recalling the verb easier when it came time to use it.
Talking to Myself (Out Loud and Without Shame)
This one might sound weird at first, but it helped me tons.
Practicing French verbs out loud, alone or with friends, fixed something important. It made the language real. When I spoke “Nous chantons” in front of the mirror or to an empty room, I felt more connected to the words. It was not about getting it perfect; it was about feeling the verbs breathe.
And sometimes, I would mess up hard. That is part of the fun. I would laugh at myself, rewind, and try again. No pressure, just playful persistence.
Plus, speaking aloud helped me discover where I really got stuck. When you say things out loud, you notice the tricky sounds and endings your eyes might miss. It made me focus on the full experience.
Why All This Matters More Than Perfect Memory
At first, I thought I needed to carry every verb form in my head like a perfect little dictionary. But over time, I just wanted to be able to communicate, to express myself without freezing mid-sentence.
These personal tools helped me stop fearing verbs and start playing with them. I began to see language learning not as a chore, but as a colorful puzzle — one I could solve in my own way.
So, if you are battling French verbs right now, I have one tiny piece of advice: find your own flavor, your own rhythm, your own silly story. Language is alive. It wants you to touch it, mess up, create, and laugh.
Oh, and do not be afraid to talk to yourself. It is not crazy if it helps you learn.
A Quick Cheat Sheet of My Favorite Tools
- Stories: Turn verbs into tiny movies or characters.
- Sticky notes: Color-coded questions that make you think.
- Audio playlists: Listening to yourself during everyday tasks.
- Flashcards with doodles: Mix art and words for surprise memory boosts.
- Speaking out loud: Make verbs real, make mistakes, laugh.
Give these a try. Mix and match. Mess around. And remember, even the trickiest verb can become a friend if you meet it with a bit of creativity and kindness.
Bonne chance, and happy conjugating!