Summary

The author, an American from Kentucky, grapples with their evolving sense of identity and belonging after living abroad for years, particularly in Oslo, Norway, and reflects on the cultural differences and challenges faced when trying to fit into both their home and adopted cultures.

Abstract

The article delves into the personal journey of an individual who has spent a significant portion of their adult life living outside the United States, primarily in Norway. The author explores the complexities of cultural identity when one no longer feels a strong connection to their place of origin, Kentucky, yet also experiences moments of being an outsider in their new home. Through anecdotes, such as a contrasting experience at a children's soccer game in Norway and the cultural shock of encountering a gun safety comic book for kids in Kentucky, the author illustrates the subtle and overt cultural differences that have led to a sense of dislocation. The narrative touches on the struggle to reconcile these two identities and the quest for a sense of belonging, while also acknowledging the difficulty in finding guidance on how to integrate deeply into a new culture from a distance.

Opinions

The author identifies a shift in their cultural understanding and sense of home after living in Norway for several years.
There is a noticeable discomfort and disconnect when the author returns to Kentucky, suggesting that their cultural expectations have changed.
The author appreciates Norwegian cultural ideals, such as treating everyone the same, but also recognizes these ideals as a reminder of their outsider status.
The author expresses concern over the growing cultural gap with friends and family in Kentucky, particularly in light of societal issues like workers' rights and gun culture.
Despite the cultural shift, the author still identifies Kentucky as their place of origin, though they question how long Kentucky will claim them in return.
The author finds some solace in connecting with other American ex-pats who share similar identity struggles but notes a lack of practical advice on how to strengthen cultural ties from afar.

Teetering on the Edge of Two Identities

Can you ever go home again?

In the typical ‘getting to know you’ line of questions, ‘where are you from?’ usually comes at the beginning. If we had just met, one of the first things I would say would be that I’m an American from Kentucky.

But, what if that answer isn’t clear? If you’ve been living abroad for years, for example. Do you still identify with your home country, or is it the country where you’re living that you identify with the most?

I’ve spent most of my adult life outside of the United States. For eight years it was a continuous cycle of moving to a new country, setting up, living a year, and then moving on to somewhere else. But, for the past three years, I’ve been living in Oslo, Norway. Oslo is home now, and I plan to be here indefinitely.

As my idea of home has evolved, so has my understanding of my own identity. When I meet Norwegians or Europeans in general, I instantly notice our cultural differences.

This used to not be the case when I went back to Kentucky. But now, that too, has changed. In Kentucky, I feel the same odd sense of disconnect that my culture is not the same. I find it uncomfortable. I’m not sure where I fit in. Am I European or am I not? Am I from Kentucky still, or have I moved on?

New in Norway

I’m watching a TV show with my Norwegian partner. The scene zooms in on a mother going to watch her son’s soccer game. When her son finally gets the ball, she yells and claps in encouragement, shouting his name and cheering him on. It was a normal scene for me. Until another parent in the stands turns around and glares.

“You shouldn’t cheer for just one child on one team,” the other mother says. “It’s not fair to those that don’t have someone here. You should cheer for all the kids, on both teams.”

Umm…what? I asked my partner to jump back so I could listen to it again, sure I had missed something. But, I hadn’t. Even on a silly TV show, you can quickly spot the Norwegian ideals around treating everyone the same. It’s something I love about Norway, but also something that stands out. It’s one of many examples where my baseline expectation proves to be wrong.

There is no ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ society, but the jolt of cultural differences is a steady reminder that I’m an outsider.

My Old Kentucky Home

And then I go back ‘home.’ To Kentucky. I always look forward to it. But, after settling in for a few days and getting my fill of southern and American foods, the conversations with my friends and family change. My best friend recounts how she hasn’t taken a vacation with her family for four years. She tells me this over lunch at a restaurant where I know the wait staff still only make $2.13 an hour.

Then, my nine-year-old nephew asks me to read him a story at bedtime. I get two pages in before I realize it’s a comic book for kids about gun safety.

I don’t want to compare everything to Norway, but now it’s a struggle for me to imagine what my friends and family are going through. Despite being my best friend of 15 years or my nephew whose diapers I changed, the gap between our cultures is widening.

A Cultural Shift

Realizing that you no longer fit in where you were born or where you live makes me feel uneasy. The one solace for me has been relating to other American ex-pats who share the same identity struggles. But, even among them, I have yet to find solid tips on how to deepen your roots when you live thousands of miles away.

Living abroad has a way of making you acutely aware of how close your culture is tied to the country where you were born. It’s unsettling to realize your own culture is shifting.

Even if I live in Norway for the next forty years, when I meet new people and they ask where I’m from, I will always say Kentucky.

But, the next question is: how long will Kentucky continue to claim me?

Some People Aren’t Meant to Stay Where They Grew Up

Everything I needed was not right in front of me the whole time

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