Living Between Worlds

We all have those moments when it feels like we’re straddling two realities—like getting dressed for a casual dinner but secretly wondering if your jeans are too “business casual.” Living between worlds is like realizing you’re a bowl of ramen at an Italian dinner party: delicious, but slightly out of place. It’s tricky, humbling, and sometimes downright exhausting, but it can also make you more compassionate, adaptable, and yes, gloriously unique. So, let’s talk about those worlds we navigate, why they matter, and how to thrive in the spaces in between.

For me, straddling two worlds has been a constant theme—especially growing up in Toronto, where diversity is not just a buzzword but an everyday reality. It’s a city where a single block can house a Vietnamese pho shop, a Polish bakery, and a Jamaican patty joint, and where no one blinks if you eat all three in one meal. But even with that multicultural backdrop, navigating multiple identities is rarely seamless.

Let’s break it down, shall we?

Strangers at the Party: Cultural Duality

Growing up with tech entrepreneur parents who immigrated to Canada, I was the kid who brought homemade dumplings to school, only to have everyone ask, “What’s that weird smell?” (Spoiler: they were delicious, thank you very much.) Toronto might pride itself on blending cultures, but for a child, being different in the lunchroom is a tough gig.

It wasn’t just about food, though. It was the constant code-switching: being polite and reserved at home, but chatty and sarcastic with friends. My culture taught me to save face, while Canadian norms encouraged me to speak my truth. Cue the endless internal debate anytime someone asked, “What’s wrong?”—respond with a modest, “Oh, nothing,” or dive into the messy reality of my existential crisis? It was exhausting.

But here’s the thing I’ve come to learn: embracing your duality isn’t about blending in but blending out. You can be your quietly reflective self and the friend who cracks bad puns at brunch. Both sides of you can exist harmoniously—striving for peace, not perfection.

The Art of Fence-Sitting: Personal Identity

Let’s skip to the part of life when I moved to Vancouver briefly in my twenties. That city is a whole vibe—picture yoga mats and Lululemon on every block, a place where even the dogs seem to meditate. It’s beautiful, but definitely not Toronto. Where Toronto is brisk and buzzing, Vancouver feels like it’s perpetually on pause, like someone hit snooze on its collective alarm clock.

As someone who had long identified as a “Toronto guy”—fast-talking and slightly judgy about coffee—I realized that, in Vancouver, I could reinvent myself. I went hiking (voluntarily!), swapped filtered photos of skyline sunsets for mountain ranges on Instagram, and adopted phrases like “West Coast chill” with alarming sincerity. For a while, I felt like a total fraud.

But then I realized something important: you can be two things at once, contradictory or otherwise. You can long for the buzz of an urban jungle while appreciating the quiet splendor of a forest hike. You’re not a fraud—you’re just complicated. And that’s… good. Complexity gives you depth—it’s the umami of personality.

Career Limbo: Professional Duality

Of course, it’s not just culture or geography that splits us into multiple selves. The professional world also loves a good identity crisis. Before I pivoted into writing full-time, I thought my version of success required climbing the corporate ladder at a major newspaper, old-school prestige and weekly deadlines in tow.

But while I was busy chasing bylines and trying to impress veteran journalists, I was also moonlighting on quirky passion projects: writing essays on gentrification, dabbling in fiction, and even critiquing overpriced charcuterie boards. Some days, I’d wake up electrified by my work; other times, I felt like a hamster on a wheel. Was I a Serious Journalist™ or just a freelance wordsmith with too much time on my hands?

Turns out, the answer is yes. I could do both. And so can you.

Living between professional worlds—be it corporate and creative, traditional and innovative—means you’re not easily boxed in. It gives you a flexibility that’s rare and valuable. You learn from the best of both sides, merging structure with whimsy to create something entirely your own.

How to Thrive While Between Worlds

So, how do you embrace the in-between without completely losing your mind? Here’s what’s worked for me:

  1. Stop Picking Teams
    It’s easy to think you have to fit into one world or the other, but life doesn’t work like a Buzzfeed personality quiz. Instead of forcing yourself to choose a side, enjoy the freedom of flipping scripts. You’re not betraying one part of yourself by leaning into another—you’re just using the whole toolbox.

  2. Find Your People
    Birds of a feather flock together, but occasionally, you’ll meet a parrot who vibes with owls. Seek out relationships where all your complexities are welcomed—friends and partners who don’t expect you to dilute one part of yourself to fit a mold. The right people will love every shade of your personality, even the neon ones they don’t quite understand.

  3. Laugh at Yourself
    Strangling self-doubt with humor is a life hack I swear by. Forget about being perfect—lean into awkward moments. Case in point: I once accidentally used a British slang word incorrectly while living in London, and my coworkers roasted me for days. Instead of spiraling into a shame hole, I laughed along with them. Imperfect is interesting.

  4. Use Contrasts as Strengths
    Think about it: dualities give you perspective. You can tap into multiple ideas, stories, and solutions others might overlook. Whether it’s merging cultural traditions in a relationship or switching career lanes with ease, your ability to juggle differences is your secret weapon. Don’t downplay it.

Becoming the Bridge

Living between worlds isn’t always comfortable, but it’s profoundly rewarding when you let it be. You learn resilience by balancing opposites, empathy by seeing perspectives collide, and creativity by embracing contradiction. Being the bridge between worlds doesn’t mean you have to carry the weight of both sides forever—it means you get to connect them, and maybe even build something entirely new.

So, here’s to the ramen at the Italian dinner party, the “Toronto guy” climbing mountains in Vancouver, the unapologetically multi-dimensional, ever-evolving you. Keep living that beautifully chaotic, in-between life—and don’t forget to laugh when it inevitably gets weird.