Living Between Worlds

Caught Between the Tides
It’s not easy living life between worlds. Trust me, I once spent an entire summer trying to convince tourists that no, Acadia National Park doesn’t have a Starbucks hidden behind a scenic overlook. As someone who grew up with one foot in the rustic, sea-salt life of Bar Harbor and the other dipping tentatively into the expectations of city-minded outsiders, I know firsthand how it feels to straddle dualities.

There’s a unique push-and-pull to existing between identities, whether they’re cultural, personal, or professional. Much like the tide pools I used to study as a curious kid—teeming with creatures that were both land-dwellers and sea-dwellers—you eventually learn to navigate the ebb and flow.

But let’s be honest: it’s not always graceful. Sometimes, you’re the resilient barnacle clinging to the rock; other days, you're a starfish flipped belly-up in low tide, waiting for someone to nudge you right-side up. Let’s talk about how to find balance when you’re living between worlds—and maybe laugh about it along the way.

The (Sometimes Messy) Art of Duality

Living between opposites often means, surprise, you’re never fully “home” in either place. It’s like showing up to a potluck with a dish that’s too fancy for the paper plates crowd but far too “rustic Maine” for the folks expecting microgreens and truffle oil. People either don’t get you or try to slap a label on you that doesn’t quite fit: “Oh, you’re the artsy-nature-girl,” they’ll say, conveniently ignoring the fact that I also hold a surprisingly strong opinion about Marvel vs. DC movies (Marvel, thank you very much, but Batman gets a pass).

There’s beauty here, though—if you look past the awkward pots of clam chowder colliding with artisan quinoa salads. Walking dual paths lets you take the best parts of each world and stitch together a life uniquely yours. You don’t have to pick mainstream nor niche, vacationland nor city hustle, introvert nor extrovert. You get to be a patchwork quilt of contradictions—and if that doesn’t make you interesting, I don’t know what does.

Finding Your Rhythm (or, Learning to Dance Awkwardly on Two Sides)

If you’re navigating dualities in your life, here are a few lessons I’ve accumulated over years of firepits and formal dinners, hiking boots and the occasional impractical pair of heels:

  1. Build Emotional “Bridges” Between Your Two Worlds
    Take it from someone whose book signings often attract both literary types and people asking if I can recommend “a wicked good lobster roll nearby”: people appreciate when you lean into your unique overlap. What can you share that shows them why holding on to two identities matters to you? Whether it’s sending city friends a care package of blueberry jam or surprising your rural family by sharing your knowledge of contemporary art movements, find subtle ways to tie your worlds together.

  2. Reframe It as an Asset, Not a Problem
    Growing up, I often felt insecure about being “too outdoorsy” for the college crowd but “too bookish” for the outdoorsy folks. Spoiler alert: your juxtapositions make you fascinating. Meeting someone who defies expectations feels refreshing, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Celebrate your ability to adapt and thrive in contrasting spaces. You’re like nature’s Swiss Army knife—equal parts versatile and functional.

  3. Be Okay with Discomfort
    Confession: I once showed up to a seafood boil in Portland wearing a smart blazer, only to realize everyone else was in Carhartt jackets and beanies. I had two choices: wallow in my apparent overdressed ridiculousness—or laugh, roll up my blazer sleeves, and dig into the mussels. (I chose the latter.) Sometimes, being caught between worlds is just a practice in getting comfortable with awkwardness. The good news? Nobody remembers what you wore—they remember how present you were.

  4. Lean Into Your “Natural Habitat” When You Need to Recharge
    Straddling multiple identities can feel exhausting. To center yourself, lean on the spaces or rituals where you feel most connected to who you are. For me, that’s watching the sunset from Bar Harbor’s rocky edges, the gulls calling overhead. For you, it might be grounding yourself in music, food, or a favorite spot. Find what replenishes your energy so you can continue navigating your many worlds with grace.

Dating Between Worlds: A Subplot

And then, of course, there’s dating. Oh, the hilarity of introducing someone to your dual identities. If I had a nickel for every time an unsuspecting suitor thought our date involved some chic urban setting, only to discover I had planned a “casual” hike up Gorham Mountain, I’d be buying all those lobsters and artisanal salads outright.

Here’s where it gets fun. Dating while living between worlds is a crash course in learning to find someone who appreciates your whole self—quirks, contradictions, and all. Yes, you may scare some people away (one guy confessed mid-hike he was “more of an air-conditioning person”—we did not have a second date). But the person who sticks around will probably be someone who embraces the mosaic of who you are.

Be Your Own Compass

At the end of the day, living between worlds is a lot like navigating by the stars or following a compass through the Maine woods: you may not always know where you’re headed, but the act of balancing yourself—of checking in, of shifting with the landscape—gets you closer to home.

I’ve learned to welcome the unpredictability while holding tight to what matters (family, honesty, the glory of a summer sitting by Bass Harbor Light). Dualities don’t have to tear us apart—they can make us whole. Whether you’re caught between careers, cultures, or some other messy middle ground, know this: there’s strength in straddling both. Like the tide pools I loved as a kid, life between worlds is far more vibrant than staying stuck on shore.

So here’s to the dual-world dwellers—the ones who bring their hiking boots to the city and their city playlists to the woods. You’re not “too much” of one thing or “not enough” of another. You’re dynamic, resourceful, and resilient. Keep walking the edges until they shape the truest version of you.