Something funny happens when you move abroad. Suddenly, the most boring parts of life feel like a whole cinematic experience. Buying groceries for 20 euros? Baby, that’s a moment. You stroll out of Mercadona, acting like you beat the system and unlocked level 47 of adulthood.
But here’s the thing… imagine if one of our favorite influencers back home filmed a slow-mo Target or Walmart haul with dreamy music and a voiceover like, “Look how little I spent.” We’d clown them. Or at least give a side-eye. Because we already know the reality behind those aisles. We know the price tricks, the impulse buys, the “went for toothpaste, came out with a whole patio set” energy.
So why do Americans romanticize it here?
Because it’s new. And because the context is completely different. The US trains us to be consumers from birth. Flashy carts, giant stores, and “more is more” thinking. We buy things we don’t need because the marketing is elite and we’re all low-key vulnerable. There’s no shame in it. It’s just the culture. America loves a purchase. It’s our national hobby.
Then you land in Europe, and suddenly a simple grocery run feels… mindful. Affordable. Even kind. There’s less noise, fewer temptations, and way more real food. You spend 20 euros and actually walk out with meals, not vibes. You feel taken care of. You feel responsible. You feel like maybe you’ve entered your “soft era” and didn’t even realize it.
But here’s where the cultural awareness kicks in.
When we gush over cheap groceries or simple living, it can sound privileged without meaning to. Because what feels magical and refreshing to us is someone else’s normal Tuesday. What feels cheap to us might be someone else’s full week of budgeting. And what feels dreamy to us might sound tone-deaf to someone who never thought grocery shopping was supposed to be romantic.
No one is wrong here. Not the influencers. Not the travelers. Not the locals who quietly watch us film our strawberries.
We’re just seeing the world through different eyes.
So for me, it’s not about silencing the joy or muting the magic. It’s just about knowing the difference between romanticizing and respecting. Celebrating the small things while also understanding why they feel so small to us in the first place.
When you come from a country where everything is loud, fast, and expensive, the quiet moments hit harder. The simplicity feels luxurious. But keeping that little whisper of awareness in your head helps you enjoy the experience without making it sound like you discovered Europe’s first grocery store.
In the end, loving a 20-euro haul doesn’t make you privileged. Forgetting that it’s normal for everyone else does.
And honestly, that’s part of growing abroad… You start recognizing the parts of your old life that shaped your habits, your expectations, and your blind spots. You get better at checking yourself. You learn to see the magic without accidentally making a documentary about it.
So keep filming your grocery runs. Keep loving the little things. Just stay aware, stay grounded, and remember that sometimes the “romance” is really just culture shock wearing cute clothes.
Love always,
American Girl Meets World
