Living Between Worlds

Growing up in Boise, I always felt like I had one foot in a barn and the other in a microbrewery. My grandparents' potato farm was just an hour’s drive away, but our family dinners were less “meat and potatoes” and more “seasonal charcuterie paired with Dad’s newest IPA.” I learned young how to do-si-do between these two facets of Idaho life—straightforward rural grit and the swelling hum of city creativity. It taught me to shape-shift, to speak two languages: the one of quiet, sun-drenched fields and the one of noisy, neon-lit taprooms.

Fast forward to adulthood, and living between worlds has become second nature. I’ve shifted cities, cultures, and spaces—personal, professional, and romantic—creating unexpected harmony out of the dualities in my life. Navigating this in love and relationships? That’s a dance worth learning. There’s no one-size-fits-all answer to who we should be, but I’ve learned a few steps along the way.

The Potato and the IPA: Embracing Your Layers

Here’s the truth: we’re all mashups. You, me, the quiet barista reading Tolstoy during their coffee break. Humans are gloriously contradictory, and the moment we embrace that, relationships start to feel less like puzzles and more like playlists—eclectic, tangled, and one hundred percent yours to enjoy.

For me, this became strikingly clear after I moved to Chicago for a fellowship. Suddenly, instead of chatting about Boise’s foothills or Mom’s huckleberry jam, I was explaining what a potato cellar was to my coworkers. “It’s...like a wine cellar...but instead of wine, there are potatoes. For the winter,” I’d say, sheepishly clutching my reusable coffee cup like a cultural security blanket.

In relationships, this dynamic plays out, too. Being your whole, unfiltered self can feel risky—like you’re exposing a snagged seam in your favorite sweater. But the people who matter will notice the craftsmanship, not the thread. For those of us straddling two worlds, it’s about balancing openness with curiosity. Instead of hiding your layers, invite your partner to explore them with you.

Here’s How to Start:
- Share your stories: Your quirks and contradictions are conversation gold. Did you grow up listening to Taylor Swift but now collect vinyl records from indie punk bands? Own it.
- Ask about theirs: Chances are, your partner has some unexpected intersections, too. ("Wait—you're into salsa dancing and LARPing?")
- Mix your worlds: Bring them along to meet your friends from distinctly different parts of your life or show them why your grandma’s bizarre casserole recipe deserves a Michelin star.

The Chicago Shuffle: Learning to Adapt

When I first started dating in Chicago, I quickly realized my Idaho small-town charm wasn’t always a match for big-city singles. In Boise, saying hi to a stranger at the farmer’s market feels natural. In Chicago, stopping someone on the street felt like the opening scene of a true-crime podcast.

At first, I worried that I’d have to fundamentally change who I was. Did I need to dress sleeker, talk faster, invest in a pair of aviator glasses so I’d blend on the Blue Line like everyone else? The answer, thankfully, was no. Blending two worlds doesn’t mean losing yourself—it’s about discovering which parts of you thrive in new environments and letting others evolve. Adaptation isn’t a compromise; it’s growth.

Dating forces this growth in the most entertaining (and, okay, sometimes embarrassing) ways. On one first date, I confidently ordered a Manhattan, only to sidestep the cherry garnish because “it seemed extra,” a phrase that had big Boise energy. My date paused, blinked, and said, “It’s not extra. It’s part of the drink.” We both laughed so hard the bartender gave us free pretzels.

That’s the sneaky joy of living between worlds: you mess up in one, learn in another, and laugh as you find your footing.

Tips for Expanding Your Comfort Zone:
1. Watch and learn: Pay attention to different rituals, styles, and customs in new environments without judgment. Think of it as free anthropology.
2. Let humor bridge gaps: Laughter is the universal language. If in doubt, crack a joke about your awkward side.
3. Hold onto your roots: Find one or two “home comforts” that ground you, even as you try on new experiences—whether it’s Sunday hikes to decompress or keeping your grandma’s recipe book close by.

Playing Musical Chairs: Choosing Your Person When You’re Many People

One of the trickiest parts of living between worlds is dating someone who only seems to fit half of yours. I’ve been on dates where the guy clicked immediately with my city-life self but looked horrified when I suggested camping as a date idea (“Wait, like...no hotels nearby?”). At the same time, I’ve met people who could name every vegetable in a potato field but couldn’t handle the chaos of a concert downtown.

So where’s the middle ground? How do you build a connection without sacrificing a part of yourself? Here’s the not-so-neat truth: you don’t need someone who shares every world you inhabit. What you need is someone who's willing to journey into yours and let you explore theirs, too.

A few relationships taught me this the hard way. A guy I briefly dated in Boise wanted nothing to do with the downtown art scene I loved. Every time I suggested seeing a gallery show or a film screening, he’d say, “You’re high-maintenance.” (Newsflash: tickets to an indie movie aren’t exactly Prada.) Another ex in Chicago thought Idaho sounded “quaint” but was visibly bored the one time I suggested a weekend hike. Both fizzled, not because we didn’t have fun together but because neither of us willfully ventured into the other’s “world.”

Green Flags to Look for in a Partner:
- Curiosity: Do they ask questions about your upbringing, interests, values, and why you love what you love?
- Willingness to try new things: It doesn’t matter if they’re terrible at it—they’ll put on hiking boots or try your city’s cuisine, and you’ll laugh through it together.
- Respect for the unfamiliar: Judgment-free zones only! Your grandma’s potato salad deserves reverence, not ridicule.

Conclusion: Celebrate the Mess

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about living between worlds, it’s that messiness is inevitable—and beautiful. Whether it’s navigating the culture clash between your childhood environment and your current city, discovering unpolished truths about yourself, or inviting someone into your layered, complicated life, duality keeps things interesting.

So bring all your worlds with you, unapologetically. The right person won’t just accept them—they’ll celebrate them. Dive into the mess. Let it tell your story. And when someone hands you a cocktail with a cherry garnish, eat the cherry. It’s not extra. It’s part of the drink.