If you live in Spain long enough, especially in cities like Barcelona, Valencia, Madrid, Málaga, or anywhere coastal, you’ll hear the word gentrificación. Sometimes whispered. Sometimes shouted. Sometimes written on a wall next to “tourists go home.”
And here’s the uncomfortable truth. Both locals and foreigners are right, just about different things.
The Local Perspective: “My City Is Slipping Away”
From a Spanish perspective, gentrification isn’t a theory. It’s daily life.
Rent prices rise faster than salaries. Neighborhoods that once housed families suddenly fill with short-term rentals. Local shops close, replaced by brunch places with English menus and oat milk as a personality trait.
Many Spaniards feel pushed out of the places they grew up in. Not because they did something wrong, but because the market changed around them.
And when locals see foreigners move in, who:
- Don’t learn Spanish
- Don’t integrate
- Don’t understand local customs
- Treat Spain like a cheap, sunny backdrop
It doesn’t feel like a cultural exchange. It feels like displacement. That frustration is valid.
I can’t speak from the lived experience of a local Spaniard, and I won’t pretend that I can. But I can listen, and I can understand where that frustration comes from. I’ve also only been living in Spain for a few years, and in that time, it’s been difficult to fully see long-term changes, especially in areas already filled with foreigners. If anything, I stand with locals in wanting their voices heard and taken seriously.
That said, those voices deserve to be directed toward the people who actually have the power to create change. Instead of publicly berating individuals online, there’s far more impact in having real conversations. Private messages. Honest explanations. Teaching. Setting an example of what coexistence can look like. That’s how understanding grows, not through hostility.
As an American, I can also relate to frustration with systems and leadership. The U.S. is far from a model when it comes to politics or public trust. I’m not a political expert or a public speaker. I’m simply an American who has lived abroad for a few years and has built a life here that I genuinely love.
Living abroad has also deepened my understanding of why diversity matters. Immigrants, expats, and foreigners contribute in countless ways. They work, pay taxes, open businesses, create tools that make daily life easier, clean streets, teach, build, and participate in the economy in ways that benefit everyone. I’ve never been anti-immigration, and I don’t believe the answer to social frustration is shutting people out.
I believe in balance. In fairness. In a world meant to be explored, not locked down. I deeply respect anyone who has the courage to pack up their life and start over somewhere new. That takes emotional strength, resilience, and a willingness to be uncomfortable.
The goal shouldn’t be division. It should be understanding. And that starts when we see each other as people first, not problems.
The Foreigner Perspective: “I Didn’t Come Here to Cause Harm”
Now here’s the other side. Most foreigners and expats living in Spain are not villains rubbing their hands together thinking, “How can I ruin the housing market today?”
Many came for:
- Work opportunities
- Better quality of life
- Safety
- A slower pace
- A fresh start
And yes, for Americans especially, there is privilege involved. The ability to earn a higher salary in dollars and then live in Spain, where the cost of living feels “cheap,” is a massive advantage. Pretending otherwise would be dishonest. But intention matters too.
Many foreigners:
- Do want to integrate
- Are learning the language
- Respect the culture
- Spend money locally
- Build real lives here, not just temporary ones
They didn’t create the system. They’re participating in it.
I’m not saying that every student studying abroad or every digital nomad integrates perfectly. That’s simply not true. There are people who make little effort, and that’s a valid criticism. But one bad example shouldn’t be used to condemn an entire group of people trying to build lives here.
It’s also important to recognize that the Spanish government has actively created pathways that make it easier for foreigners to come to Spain. Programs like study abroad options, the auxiliar program, and the digital nomad visa didn’t appear by accident. They were designed to attract people, talent, and money. Foreigners aren’t sneaking in through loopholes. (Again, I’m speaking from an American standpoint; I cannot speak for all foreigners.) We’re participating in a system that exists by design.
Some argue that even participating in the system contributes to the problem. And to an extent, that could be true. But directing anger at individuals instead of the structures that enable and benefit from this system misses the bigger picture. If the real issue is housing, wages, and regulation, then those conversations belong at the policy level, not in comment sections aimed at strangers online.
Shaming people for living their lives, studying abroad, or pursuing opportunities elsewhere doesn’t solve anything. It doesn’t lower rent. It doesn’t fix salaries. It doesn’t create better protections for locals. What it does reveal is misplaced frustration.
Criticism can be constructive. Harassment is not. And if the goal is coexistence and real solutions, attacking individuals will never get us there.
Let’s Talk About Privilege (Because We Have To)
Coming to Spain as an American is a privilege. Full stop.
- Strong passport
- Higher earning potential
- Remote work opportunities
- The ability to leave if things get hard
For many Spaniards, leaving isn’t that simple. Salaries are lower. Job markets are tighter. Housing is unstable. The frustration isn’t about foreigners existing. It’s about inequality becoming visible in their own neighborhoods.
Acknowledging that privilege doesn’t mean self-flagellation. It means awareness. And awareness changes behavior.
Spray-painting “tourists go home” or vandalizing your own city sets the wrong example. It assumes that you’ve never been a tourist yourself, but the truth is, almost everyone has been a tourist at some point in their life. Whether it was a family trip, a weekend getaway, or a vacation abroad, we’ve all stepped into someone else’s city looking to experience it.
Tourism isn’t inherently bad, but it does need to be regulated. People often spend months or even years saving up for a trip, and if your city is beautiful, culturally rich, or iconic, it’s natural that they want to experience it. In many cases, they’re literally living out a dream to see your city, to take in your local landmarks, and to create memories in a place you may take for granted.
Instead of seeing tourists as an intrusion, it helps to shift perspective. They aren’t there to erase your life or disrupt your routine; they’re visiting a city you call home, just as you’ve likely visited cities far from yours. Whether it’s the Sagrada Familia, Times Square, the Eiffel Tower, or any other iconic site, tourists are engaging with something you might pass by without a second thought.
It’s not about condoning bad behavior or ignoring the strain tourism can sometimes put on local infrastructure. It’s about recognizing that your city has value, and that people coming from outside are there to appreciate it. Turning that admiration into resentment only divides communities and misses an opportunity to share your city’s story with the world.
The Integration Issue Is Real
Here’s where foreigners need to be honest with themselves.
If you live in Spain and:
- Refuse to learn Spanish
- Only socialize with other foreigners
- Expect locals to accommodate you
- Treat Spain like a long vacation
You are part of the problem.
Integration isn’t about perfection. It’s about effort. Learning the language. Respecting traditions. Understanding that you are a guest, even if you plan to stay long-term.
Coexisting means meeting the culture halfway, not reshaping it to suit you.
And yes, I can absolutely see where some foreigners aren’t integrating as much as they should. Speaking as a foreigner myself, I know some of us could—and should—do better. And let me be clear: I’m not claiming to be perfect. I, for one, should have learned more Spanish before moving here. Even now, I’m continuously learning, and I plan to keep improving my language skills for as long as I live here.
Expats also need to recognize that what might feel like a small, everyday indulgence for us, like a grocery haul that feels “so cheap,” can look very different from a local perspective. Your neighbor might be budgeting for an entire family, so it’s worth keeping that in mind and staying aware of the privilege we carry just by being able to live here.
That said, I wouldn’t blame all expats. Especially as Americans, our system isn’t exactly designed to prepare us for success abroad. Sure, we have hustle culture and work opportunities, but it often comes at the expense of truly living life. And when it comes to language, many of us start behind. I wasn’t introduced to Spanish until I was 15, and I only had to take it for two years. Meanwhile, many European education systems introduce English as early as three years old. That early exposure gives them a built-in advantage when navigating life internationally.
Yes, English is spoken all over the world, and thankfully, it’s the global language. That alone gives you a huge advantage. But let’s be real. Knowing only English is like having a key that opens many doors, but not all of them.
When you know two or three languages, your world gets bigger. You communicate more easily, connect more deeply, and move through different spaces with more confidence. More languages mean more job opportunities, more friendships, better travel experiences, and, honestly, a better understanding of how other people think and live.
English may get you in the room. But speaking another language helps you stay, build, and belong. And in a global world, that’s a serious advantage.
It’s not that we Americans choose not to learn a second language; it’s more about circumstance. The U.S. is huge, and outside of border states like California, Texas, Florida, and New York, most communities don’t grow up surrounded by foreign languages. For many of us, the opportunity to learn a language at an early age simply wasn’t there.
Often, people who speak Spanish, or any foreign language, as a second language have family connections that made it part of their life from the start. For the rest of us, it’s something we have to seek out later, and for a long time, that felt optional.
Now that I’ve matured and live abroad, I realize there is no downside to learning another language. If anything, it completely transforms your life, opening doors to friendships, romantic relationships, career opportunities, and a deeper understanding of the world.
I didn’t get the chance to make that decision as a child, but this experience has made me understand its value. When I think about the future and raising kids, I want them to have the privilege of learning multiple languages from an early age, if not more opportunities than I had. Moving abroad gave me that clarity, and it’s something I’ll carry forward.
Acknowledging these differences isn’t making excuses; it’s context. It helps explain why some foreigners struggle with integration, and it also highlights why making the effort matters. Living abroad comes with privilege, and part of that privilege is respecting and adapting to the culture around you.
The Bigger Problem No One Wants to Talk About: The Government
Here’s the part that gets overlooked. The core issue isn’t individual foreigners or individual locals. It’s policy. Housing shortages, lack of rent control, unchecked short-term rentals, stagnant wages, and weak protections for residents are government-level failures.
Blaming individuals is easier than addressing systems.
Foreigners didn’t:
- Set housing laws
- Cap salaries
- Encourage speculation
- Fail to regulate tourism
Governments did. Or didn’t. Same difference.
Have we ever really met a government that works perfectly for the people? Honestly, political debates and conversations aren’t my thing, but sometimes we have to look at the bigger picture.
If salaries feel low or neighborhoods are changing, it’s not because a foreigner moved in next door. That might sound harsh, but the reality is, it’s easier to blame someone else than to confront the system that’s actually in place. And yes, maybe people do speak up about these issues. Maybe they vote, protest, or advocate. But systems are complex, and change is slow.
I think about the U.S. a lot as a comparison. People are passionately for or against the Second Amendment, yet deadly shootings still happen, schools are still unsafe, and real change feels painfully distant. Frustration builds, and it’s understandable, but pointing fingers at individuals doesn’t fix the underlying problem.
There’s no one-size-fits-all solution, in Spain, the U.S., or anywhere else. Governments everywhere have limitations, blind spots, and competing interests. As Americans, we already carry our own burdens and frustrations when dealing with policies, bureaucracy, and systemic issues at home. Moving abroad doesn’t erase those realities; it just reminds us that structural problems exist everywhere, and blaming individuals instead of addressing the root causes rarely gets us anywhere.
Change requires perspective, patience, and addressing the system, not the neighbors.
Coexistence Is the Only Real Answer
Spain is not a museum. Cultures evolve. People move. Borders shift. The goal isn’t to stop foreigners from coming or to silence locals who are struggling. The goal is coexistence. That requires:
- Foreigners integrating, not isolating
- Locals being heard, not dismissed
- Governments stepping up, not deflecting
- Honest conversations without hostility
Two truths can exist at once: Spain deserves to protect its people. And people from elsewhere deserve to build meaningful lives here, too. I genuinely believe this, whether I’m living abroad or back in the U.S. We don’t get to choose where we’re born or the environment we grow up in. That part is pure luck. But we do get to choose what we do with it. I fully support packing up and starting over somewhere new because I’ve done it myself, and I’ve seen how much it can change you for the better.
The world is massive. It’s meant to be explored, not lived in from one fixed point forever. Yet so many people feel boxed in by circumstance, expectations, finances, or fear. Moving abroad made me realize how often those “boxes” are real… and how often they’re learned.
I’m also more aware now that being from the U.S. comes with privilege. But it’s not just about nationality. It’s about options. Having the ability to move, to try something new, to hold multiple passports or citizenships, to choose a different life path. That kind of flexibility is a privilege, and not everyone has it.
Living abroad has also shifted how I think about my future. I want more opportunities for my own family one day. More languages, more cultural awareness, more choices. And for many people, moving to another country isn’t about chasing a fantasy. It’s about family. Stability. Safety. Long-term quality of life. Those decisions come with sacrifices, hard moments, and a lot of uncertainty.
There’s also this assumption that if you’re American, your life must be perfect. That you’re moving abroad just because you’re bored or romanticizing Europe. The reality is more complicated. Plenty of Americans leave because they’re trying to escape something, too. Not a war zone, but burnout, financial pressure, lack of healthcare, violence, or a system that no longer feels sustainable for them.
At the end of the day, Americans will never fully understand the lived experience of a Spaniard, and Spaniards will never fully understand the lived experience of an American. That gap in perspective is where a lot of the tension and frustration comes from. But understanding doesn’t have to be perfect to coexist. It just has to be honest. And maybe that’s the real work. Not deciding who’s right, but learning how to live alongside each other with a little more empathy and a lot less assumption.
The tension isn’t a sign of failure. It’s a sign that something needs fixing.
And that fix starts with understanding, not blame. I know, I know, let’s just be positive. Easier said than done, right? But seriously, perspective is everything. Both locals and expats need to take a step back and see things from the other side. The gap exists, but it can be bridged if we approach it with patience and respect.
There are mature, educated ways to get your opinion across and make your voice heard. Attacking someone online rarely changes anything, but thoughtful dialogue can. The reality is, two truths can exist at once. It’s not about “I’m right, and you’re wrong.” Both perspectives can coexist, and understanding that is key to living alongside each other.
If you see a video, post, or action that sparks controversy, consider reaching out. Offer insight. Help someone reflect on their actions or the impact they may have had. Approach it with empathy rather than anger. At the end of the day, an American and a Spaniard may have different customs, beliefs, and traditions, but we share one crucial thing: we’re human. We have feelings, emotions, and the ability to be kind. And it costs nothing to choose kindness.
Most people who move abroad aren’t trying to disrupt anyone’s life. They want to learn, to experience a new culture, to integrate. And the best way to do that is through immersion, not a textbook, not a TikTok tutorial, and certainly not by dismissing or disrespecting the locals who make that country home.
Respect goes a long way. Listening goes even further. And understanding each other, really understanding, is how we create communities where everyone can thrive.
And a message to all my fellow expats, immigrants, or anyone building a life abroad: if you’re sharing your life online, your experiences, your lifestyle, your journey, and you see a comment that’s rude, degrading, or just plain mean, resist the urge to fight back publicly. Instead, consider reaching out privately. Ask for their perspective, try to understand where they’re coming from, or even ask for advice. That’s the most mature, grown-up way to approach learning, integrating, and handling conflict.
If, after that, the person is still difficult or unkind, recognize this: their behavior is a reflection of their own insecurities and frustrations, not yours. If you are kind and thoughtful, and someone else chooses to be hostile, that’s on them, not you.
The same goes for the people in the comments. Instead of arguing in public, reach out directly. If they refuse to engage respectfully, it’s their choice. At least you showed generosity of spirit, tried to understand, and expressed your opinion thoughtfully.
Being kind doesn’t make you weak; it shows you’re grounded, confident, and capable of coexisting in a world full of opinions, frustration, and projection. And in my experience, that approach opens doors to real connection far more than clapping back ever will.
So while you might see an American on TikTok romanticizing her trip to Mercadona, what you don’t see is the context behind it. For her, that grocery run might be the first time in her adult life she’s been able to shop without anxiety, without counting every item, without choosing between food and something else. What feels ordinary or even expensive to a Spaniard can feel wildly accessible to someone coming from a country where groceries, rent, healthcare, and basic living costs are often crushing.
At the same time, from a Spanish perspective, what foreigners call “cheap” is very real money. Price rises affect locals first and hardest, especially when salaries don’t rise with them. Both experiences can exist at once. One doesn’t cancel out the other.
The truth is, we rarely know the full story on either side. We’re seeing snapshots, not realities. That’s why this conversation needs more nuance and a lot more compassion. From locals. From foreigners. From everyone involved. No one is inherently wrong for how they experience a place. Everyone is just reacting to their own economic reality. Understanding that is how coexistence actually begins.
Lastly, I want to say that I’ve written this blog with love, patience, and understanding. I’m not here to point fingers at anyone, neither locals nor expats, digital nomads, or immigrants. My goal is simply to be a messenger, to share a perspective that comes from openness and a genuine desire to hear all sides.
I’ve been living in Spain for a few years now, and in that time, I’ve learned so much about myself, about culture, about language, and about how to navigate life in a place that isn’t “home.” None of that would have been possible without approaching this experience with curiosity and an open mind.
The reality is, I will never be a true local. I carry my own customs, traditions, and beliefs wherever I go. That doesn’t mean I’m rigidly attached to all of my beliefs. One of the reasons I moved abroad was for the potential of change, for the chance to challenge myself, rethink my assumptions, and grow. Living in a new country gives you the freedom to create your own little world, shaped by your own customs, values, and daily rhythms.
Spain, for me, has been a teacher in unexpected ways. It showed me the beauty of patience, the art of slowing down, and the power of community, the way neighbors, friends, and even strangers can come together in small but meaningful ways. These lessons aren’t tied to a city or a country; they’re habits, mindsets, and ways of being that I hope to carry with me wherever I go in this world.
The reality is Americans and Spaniards move through the world with very different lenses. We’re shaped by different systems, values, and rhythms of life. So when Americans come to Spain and see how people grow up here, how community matters, how life isn’t always rushed or centered around work, it naturally shifts something in us. You can’t help but feel grateful and realize there isn’t just one “right” way to live a good life.
At the same time, Americans are often more disconnected from the rest of the world than we like to admit. Yes, we border Mexico and Canada, but let’s be real, both countries very much do their own thing and have their own deep, distinct cultures. Growing up in the U.S., it’s easy to exist in a bit of a bubble, where the world feels far away and optional rather than woven into daily life.
Living in Spain forces that bubble to pop. It makes you more aware, more curious, and more humble. You start to see how culture shapes everything from relationships to priorities, and you realize that the American way isn’t the default; it’s just one version. And honestly, that realization alone is worth the move.
My intention here is never to assign blame. I sincerely hope this perspective helps both locals and foreigners understand one another better and encourages us to make our communities stronger through kindness, awareness, and understanding.
This hits close to home for me because I’ve lived abroad, experienced culture shock, and learned firsthand how small gestures, like learning the language, respecting traditions, and being mindful of your impact, can make a difference.
So please, do your research, be thoughtful about how you engage online, and above all, be kind. We each have the power to do our part in making the world a more understanding, inclusive, and compassionate place. And as always, I would love to hear your thoughts.
Love always,
American Girl Meets World
