Living between countries changes what you take for granted.

Sample text for this first version. Awaiting editorial review.

I’ve lived in Venezuela, Chile, Costa Rica, Canada, and the United States. That experience keeps one question close: does this feel natural to me, or does it simply feel familiar?

The distinction matters. Many things we call obvious come from a place, a period, a family, or a way of working. When you move, you discover that other people organize everyday life around different assumptions. They don’t necessarily feel a need to explain theirs either.

That doesn’t make every custom equivalent. I still have preferences and can judge an experience. But I’m interested in recognizing what I’m comparing. Sometimes I’m comparing actual conditions. Sometimes I’m comparing something familiar with the discomfort of something I’m still learning.

There’s also the temptation to turn an entire country into an explanation. A difficult experience can grow until it fills our picture of a place. A good period can do the reverse. My experience has value, but it has a perspective and limits.

That’s where I want to speak from now. I can feel a sense of belonging in more than one place, keep something from one and prefer something from another. Those pieces don’t need to make an identity that is easy to summarize. I can recognize them and let someone else’s experience reveal what I’m overlooking.