“You can’t be serious. We’re doing brunch on the North Side again?”

That’s me, every once in a while, with my college friends—a mix of foodies, finance professionals, and self-proclaimed streetwear connoisseurs who’ve gentrified their own corner of Chicago. Meanwhile, on the South Side, my family is calling me out for ordering oat milk lattes and “acting bougie” after a single semester in Paris.

They’re joking. Mostly.

Living between worlds—whether cultural, personal, or professional—is complicated. It’s like straddling a tightrope with one foot on hardwood floors and the other on broken concrete. You’re balancing your authentic self while adjusting to the expectations of those around you. For me, this tension shows up everywhere—from family holiday dinners to how I move through relationships. And while it can feel exhausting, it’s also taught me how to bring my whole self to every conversation and connection. Let’s talk about what happens when you’re navigating life’s dualities—and how to thrive in the tension.

The Double Life of a Date Night

Let me set the scene: It’s a first date. She’s a neuroscientist I met at a mutual friend’s game night. She’s quick-witted, with one of those effortlessly cool laughs that makes you rethink your definition of charisma. I pick a trendy spot near downtown because I want to impress her without looking like I’m trying too hard. Twenty minutes in, the waiter asks what we think about the menu.

“Well,” she says without missing a beat, “I usually go for sashimi, but some of this is…adorably fusion-y.”

And just like that, I know exactly where her world operates. She’s comfortable here, in places with reclaimed wood walls and kombucha pairings. It’s not fake—it’s just different from where I grew up. On the South Side, my first exposure to sushi came from a rainbow roll chilling awkwardly beneath supermarket fluorescence. Fancy date spots? Harold’s Chicken Shack after Sunday service was about as good as it got.

What I’ve learned over the years is that both of these worlds offer richness—and neither one truly defines me. But if you’re like me, toggling between cultural reference points on a date, you’ve got to navigate the in-between with grace. How do you show someone your true self when you live a multi-dimensional life?

Don’t Code-Switch Your Heart

First things first: authenticity matters. Early on in my dating life, I leaned hard into what I thought other people wanted me to be. If my date was all about Chicago’s finest gastropubs, I’d suddenly pretend I knew barrel-aged everything. If her world was more traditional, I’d downplay the time I saw Kamasi Washington perform live and bawled my eyes out. But here’s the thing: code-switching your way through relationships sets you up to struggle.

Here’s what I’ve learned:
- Own all of you. If you love collecting sneakers and listening to Sam Cooke on repeat, say that. If you’re the kind of person who still cries at Pixar movies, embrace it. Your quirks and complexities make you memorable.
- Don’t apologize for where you’re from. Whether your roots are South Side soul food or a Midwest farm town, where you come from shaped your values. Those traditions and perspectives are worthy of pride—and worth sharing.
- Stop translating yourself for others. Not everyone will “get” the spicy joy of mild sauce or know why you still rewatch Love Jones. But the point is to gently invite them to understand, not to water yourself down for the sake of convenience.

Laugh at the Duality

Living between worlds comes with its awkward moments. Once, during a family barbecue, I casually mentioned I was reading Baldwin’s The Fire Next Time (for what might’ve been the fifth time), and my cousin said, “Dang, you really like books for someone who still eats the crusts off their peanut butter sandwiches.” The entire backyard cracked up, and yeah—I was reminded that the people who’ve known you since day one will always come for you.

Instead of letting those moments embarrass you, own them. Humor is the bridge that connects people when nothing else works. Bring that same energy to your relationships. Feeling self-conscious about ordering red beans and rice on a date because it feels less “refined”? Crack a joke about it. Does your music taste flip from Coltrane to Kendrick in five seconds flat? Laugh about being a musical shapeshifter.

Flex your duality instead of worrying about it. It’s an incredibly attractive quality when someone sees you celebrating the layers that make you who you are.

Build a Both/And Life

A friend of mine always says, “You can’t grow if one half of you is carrying the other.” For the record, she’s a poet—which is another way of saying she’s unfairly good at soundbites. But she’s right. Whether it’s love, friendships, or even family dynamics, you’ve got to integrate your worlds rather than compartmentalize them.

Here’s what that looks like:
- Introduce your partner to what makes you tick. If you grew up with family fish fries on Fridays (and maybe a post-dinner game of bid whist), invite them to join you one weekend. It doesn’t mean they’re diving into your world with both feet on the first try, but it’s a small, impactful way to bring them closer.
- Expand your horizons. The best way to navigate dualities is to treat learning like second nature. Maybe your partner grew up in the suburbs and thinks a Green Line ride sounds like an adventure. That’s OK—meet them where they are and gently educate them, too.
- Find spaces that reflect your whole self. There’s magic in finding ways to embrace both sides of who you are. Maybe it’s joining a local community group, finding a neighborhood that balances your vibe, or even starting your own traditions that marry both worlds together.

Why Duality is a Gift, Not a Burden

Here’s the truth: navigating between worlds isn’t always easy, and there are moments that test your patience. (Try explaining to your cousins why you willingly spend $29 on avocado toast. It’s not fun.) But what I’ve come to appreciate about my life is how much depth comes from duality.

I can walk into a room full of South Side legends and know I’ve earned my place, but I can also appreciate European architecture or a low-key wine bar without feeling like an imposter. This duality has strengthened my understanding of what I bring to relationships—compassion, curiosity, and the ability to move through life with humility.

So remember this: you don’t have to simplify yourself to be understood. Show up fully. Whether your world is jazz and jollof, trap beats and tacos, or venison and violins, there’s space for all of it. Relationships aren’t about fitting into one mold or the other—they’re about growing together toward something bigger than either of your parts.

Take it from someone who’s still bridging the gap between soul food and sashimi: you don’t have to choose. You just have to be brave enough to live fully in both.