Moving abroad will humble you in the most random ways. For me, it started with measurements.
Why does the rest of the world use kilometers while we’re out here defending miles? Why am I converting Celsius to Fahrenheit in my head like I’m back in algebra? Why did I not realize until my late 20s that the United States is basically an island in its own system? It took leaving home to see it clearly.
The U.S. is massive. We border Canada and Mexico, sure. But culturally and geographically, we’re spread out. You can drive for hours and still be in the same state. You can cross multiple states and still speak the same language, use the same currency, and follow the same general systems. We created our own ecosystem: our own rules, our own little world, and most of us grew up fully inside it.
Yes, the U.S. is one of the most diverse countries in the world; I love that about us. You can find almost every culture, food, and community somewhere within the country. But here’s the difference I didn’t fully understand until I moved to Spain.
In Europe, everything is close. You are a short train ride away from a different language, a different history, a different way of life. Borders feel fluid, exposure feels normal, it’s just built into daily life. In the U.S., exposure often requires a plane ticket.
Now, I’m from sweet tea territory. If I flew to New York growing up, that was my version of culture shock. Not because it’s another country, but it felt like another universe: No sweet tea, a different pace, the subway, and that’s still within the same country.
So when Americans seem unaware of other systems, other languages, other ways of living, I don’t think it’s always ignorance. Sometimes it’s insulation. We didn’t choose our education systems. We didn’t choose that most public schools only require one language, and sometimes not very seriously. We didn’t choose to grow up using Fahrenheit, inches, and pounds while the rest of the world agreed on something else. We were raised in a country large enough to function independently.
That independence can look like isolation. And yes, Americans have a reputation: loud, uninformed, “typical dumb American.” I’ve heard it, I’ve felt the stereotype hovering before I even open my mouth. But living abroad changed my perspective in two directions.
It made me more aware of how closed off parts of the U.S. can feel, especially in smaller towns or certain states. We can absolutely be more open-minded. We can do better at curiosity and at learning languages earlier. Maybe look outward instead of assuming the world revolves around us.
But it also made me want people to extend a little empathy. Most Americans are not trying to be ignorant. We just grew up in a system that rarely forces us to look beyond our borders. When your country is that big, that influential, and that self-contained, it’s easy to stay inside the bubble without even realizing you’re in one.
Moving to Spain cracked mine wide open. Now I think in euros. I hear three languages in a single afternoon. I still check the weather in Fahrenheit, though. I also understand what it means to be the one who doesn’t know how things work.
And honestly? I’m grateful for it.
It took moving abroad to fully appreciate where I come from. Not in a blind patriotic way, not in a political way, but in a grounded way. I can be proud of being American while also recognizing our flaws. I can love the diversity, the creativity, the scale of it all, while admitting we don’t always get global awareness right.
We created our own little world. Now, I’m learning how to step outside of it.
Love always,
American Girl Meets World
