I used to think taking a nap in the middle of the day was a sign of weakness. Or laziness. Or failure. Or all three wrapped in a cozy guilt blanket. Back in the U.S., I was that girl, always on the move, powered by iced tea and a sense of urgency I couldn’t quite explain.
But then… I moved to Spain.
And suddenly, I found myself adding “siesta” to my to-do list. Like, intentionally. Sometimes with a blanket. Sometimes in full jeans. Sometimes, just staring at the ceiling, pretending I wasn’t about to pass out from pasta and happiness.
If there’s one thing Spain has taught me, besides how to properly pronounce jamón ibérico, it’s how to slow the hell down. Life here moves at a different rhythm. It’s not rushed. It’s not about who can check the most boxes by 9 a.m. It’s about enjoying your café con leche, saying buenos días to your neighbors, and maybe sitting in a plaza doing absolutely nothing… and somehow still feeling full.
And yes, everything slows down. Stores close for siesta, public pools shut down for a few hours, and even some foundations or offices have those mysterious “back later” hours. It’s as if the whole country collectively decides to breathe at the same time. Wild concept, right?
I can’t emphasize enough how transformative it’s been. Other than running to catch the Renfe train when they finally announce what vía it’s on (seriously, why is it always last-minute?!), I’ve fully embraced the slower life.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I get the appeal of American Hustle. There’s a certain energy in U.S. cities that makes you feel like you can take on the world before lunch. It’s efficient, productive, and deeply goal-oriented. And for a long time, I thrived in that. I lived for back-to-back plans, multi-tasking, and squeezing every last drop out of my Google calendar.
But let’s be honest, it’s also exhausting. There’s this unspoken pressure in the U.S. to always be “doing something.” Rest is earned, not built-in. Naps feel like lost productivity. Slowing down can feel like falling behind.
I won’t lie, adjusting to Spain’s pace felt weird at first. Like, am I doing something wrong, or is it just…quiet? But over time, I’ve come to deeply appreciate how intentional and human it all feels.
Now I wake up from a nap and still have a whole afternoon ahead of me. My work schedule actually makes room for rest, and guess what? The world doesn’t collapse if I take a minute (or an hour) to just exist. Spain has taught me that life isn’t always a race. Sometimes it’s just a long walk home through a sunny street, with no rush and no real reason other than because I can.
The U.S. may win in the “get it done” department, but Spain wins in the “enjoy it while it lasts” category. And right now? That’s the win I need.
So if you need me between 2–5 p.m., there’s a good chance I’ll be horizontal, soft jazz playing in the background, pretending to read a book but actually asleep, with zero guilt and a full heart.
Because here in Spain, slowing down isn’t falling behind. It’s just catching up with yourself.
Love always,
American Girl Meets World
