I don’t remember the exact moment I realized I was living in two worlds, but I’ll tell you this: it probably involved a plate of ropa vieja and a playlist that shuffled seamlessly between Celia Cruz and Destiny’s Child. As the daughter of Cuban and Mexican parents, raised in Houston but steeped in Latin culture, I’ve spent my life balancing the expectations of one world while tiptoeing around the dynamics of another. Going to school meant math tests and cafeterias peppered with Texan slang, while home smelled like cumin, echoed with Spanish phrases, and came packed with the sharp wit of tías who weren’t afraid to ask why I didn't have a novio yet.

Navigating cultural dualities often feels a bit like dating: you're constantly figuring out where you stand, which side you're playing up, and how to be authentic without losing yourself in translation. And just like dating, it comes with hard-won lessons, laughable missteps, and moments of self-discovery.

The Breakfast Tacos Dilemma: Trying to Make Both Worlds Happy

In my family, love is food. The way we slice avocado just right or make sure you left with a Tupperware of flan that’s yours and also not yours, because the Tupperware itself is sacred. So when I brought my best friend from college home one weekend and she commented on our “cute little breakfast tacos,” our entire kitchen came to a silent standstill. Cute? Little? These were works of culinary art wrapped in tortillas fresh off the comal. It hit me then that even something as simple as breakfast could get lost in translation.

Balancing cultures—especially in relationships, romantic or otherwise—means explaining parts of yourself and hoping the other person “gets it.” It’s an unspoken hope that they’ll see the beauty without reducing it to Pinterest novelty or that dreaded word: “exotic.” At the same time, it's a process of showing up authentically, whether it's correcting someone on how to pronounce your last name (hint: it’s not "San-DOS") or inviting them into a world where salsa is both a food and a dance.

Chispa and Chill: How Dualities Shape Your Dating Life

Growing up, love advice from my family ping-ponged between “Don’t ever let a man tell you what to do” (direct quote from my mom) and “Mija, but don’t boss him around too much” (whispered by my abuelita). That mix of fierce independence and gentle compromise set the tone for how I approached relationships.

And then, there’s the language barrier—both literal and metaphorical—when dating someone who doesn’t share your cultural background. One guy I dated thought arroz con pollo was a seasoning. Another referred to the lively percussion in salsa music as “the beat drop.” Guys like these can make you wonder if you're dating them—or just trying to bridge gaps with your entire ancestral history.

But here’s what I’ve learned: cultural differences don’t have to be deal-breakers. They can be conversation starters. Instead of rolling my eyes when a date didn’t know guayaberas (the classic Cuban shirts, by the way), I started leaning into my favorite Latina move: education with a side of charm. Things I’ve done for love include teaching someone how to dance cumbia (with varying degrees of success) and explaining why I can’t buy $12 avocado toast without hearing my dad’s voice yelling, “¡¿Doce dólares por un aguacate?!”

When Telenovelas Meet Ted Lasso: Finding Balance in the Drama

The duality of my upbringing carries a very specific kind of tension: the passionate ups and downs of Latin telenovelas versus the wholesome, understanding charm of something like "Ted Lasso." My family has opinions—and I mean opinions. If you've ever watched a make-believe businessman betrayed by his long-lost twin brother on Univision, you know the energy we bring to even the smallest life updates.

Over time, this taught me two things. First, not everything in your relationship is a high-stakes telenovela plot. The world does not stop spinning because someone forgot your anniversary. Second, the drama can sometimes be fun. Lean into it—especially in moments that won’t hurt feelings. Once, when I ran into an ex at a grocery store, I texted my group chat with all caps commentary—because while heartbreak is real, there’s always room for a little melodrama. (Bonus tip: Add “accidentally” tossing lemons into the wrong cart for flair.)

Lessons on Love, Culture, and Owning Your Story

If you’re straddling multiple worlds—whether cultural, personal, or even professional—you’ll find that the balancing act isn’t about choosing one or the other. It’s about blending the best parts and creating something uniquely yours. Here are a few things I’ve learned about navigating life and love as a multicultural Latina:

  • Own Your Story: Your experiences are your power. Whether it's showing off a favorite childhood dish or teaching someone how to say “te amo” the right way (pro tip: it’s about the feeling, not the perfection), sharing who you are is a gift.

  • Appreciate What’s Different: One of my favorite dates ever involved taking someone to their first ever tamalada (a tamale-making party, for the uninitiated). Was it slightly terrifying watching them fold a tamale the wrong way? Yes. But they tried, and that meant everything.

  • Set Your Boundaries: As much as you share about yourself, it’s okay to draw the line. You don’t owe someone access to your deepest cultural truths if they see them as just “quirky.” Authenticity means being you, not a tour guide in your own life.

  • Laugh Through Awkward Moments: Like the time I accidentally said “boda” (wedding) instead of “botas” (boots) while describing my outfit to a new boyfriend. Trust me, laughter loosens just about any cultural tension.

Conclusion: You Can Dance to Both Beats

Living between worlds doesn’t have to feel like competing forces tugging you in opposite directions. It’s a dance—a lively, unpredictable rhythm that shifts between fast and slow, salsa and jazz, tradition and modernity.

In love and life, there’s so much joy in learning how to sway to both beats. And in case you're wondering—yes, I still fight anyone who calls breakfast tacos "cute."