The Quiet Work of Living Between Cultures

We often talk about the beauty of living across cultures — the broadened perspectives, the meaningful connections, the once-in-a-lifetime experiences. And all of that is true.

But there’s another side to it that doesn’t often make it into pictures or stories.

Living between cultures can also be quietly exhausting.

Beyond adaptation

I spent a few years in Scotland. One thing that confused me endlessly in Aberdeen was the way people said, “You alright?” when passing you in the corridor or at the start of a conversation. The first time someone asked me, I started explaining – “Yes, just a bit tired, didn’t sleep well…” – and they looked surprised. I didn’t realise it was just another way of saying “hello.” Over time, I learned that these small rituals carry emotional codes of their own. That “you alright?” wasn’t a question – it was a way of gently opening the door to connection. I still sometimes over-answer it. But I also smile now when I hear it – a tiny reminder of how complex and fascinating communication can be.

Adapting to a different culture isn’t just about learning how people greet each other or what’s considered polite. It’s about attuning yourself to a different emotional code — often one that’s unspoken.

It takes:

Openness, to notice how people speak and connect.

Vulnerability, to express yourself in new ways — linguistically, emotionally, even physically.

Courage, to engage with difference — whether that’s being seen as different, or facing a culture that feels deeply unfamiliar.

This process is often invisible. But it’s constant.

In-between worlds

Sometimes, living across cultures means translating your thoughts more than once before speaking.
Sometimes, it’s wondering how much of your own cultural heritage to carry with you — and how much space to leave for what’s new.

I remember one evening at a pub in Aberdeen, sitting with a group of Scottish classmates. We were all chatting, laughing – but I noticed something: they rarely talked about themselves. Everything was wrapped in humour or deflection. I had grown up with a different kind of openness, where emotions could be named more directly. That night, I shared something a bit personal – nothing dramatic, just a little window into how I was feeling. The conversation went quiet. Not unkind – just… uncertain. Only later did I realise I had crossed an invisible line that evening. It wasn’t about what I said – but how early I said it. There’s a dance to connection in every culture. That night, I learned one of the steps.

Living in between often means feeling a bit like an outsider.

And that’s hard to explain to people who haven’t experienced it.

But here’s the thing:

Feeling “in between” isn’t a weakness.
It’s a reflection of everything you’re holding, and how deeply you’re navigating.

What you gain

There’s a quiet kind of power that comes from cross-cultural living.
It can make you more perceptive. More grounded. More attuned to nuance.

It’s not always easy — but it’s incredibly rewarding.

Because when you live between cultures, you start to notice what connects people. You understand multiple realities. And you gain the ability to choose what you carry forward — and what you let go.

That’s not just cultural intelligence.
That’s human wisdom.

Let’s keep the conversation going

If this resonates with you, I’d love to hear your story.
Let’s keep talking — about the joys and the challenges of life across cultures.