Growing Up Between Two Worlds
Written by: Mari Novoa, M.S., AMFT
Growing up Mexican-American
I grew up in Los Angeles County, surrounded by culture everywhere, though I didn’t fully appreciate it until I was older. As an adult, I found myself taking Yoruba dance classes during the day, going salsa dancing and eating food from every corner of the world on Saturday nights, attending mass on Sunday, and grabbing an oat milk latte after Pilates on Monday. My parents are monolingual Spanish speakers, and I grew up translating important documents and conversations at school, in stores, and anywhere we needed a bridge between both worlds.
Being Mexican-American, or as I like to say, Mexican–U.S. citizen (because “Mexican-American” already says the same thing twice), feels like living in two overlapping playlists. One is filled with Natalia Lafourcade, Javier Solis, and Luis Miguel, tamales at Christmas, and “¿Ya comiste?” as an expression of love. The other has Prince and MJ, organic snacks, and a very non-traditional vegan pozole situation. Don’t judge, it’s actually really good.
My parents knew that university existed, but they didn’t know how to guide me there. We never had conversations about FAFSA, but I remember trying to explain what community college was and how it could be a stepping stone to transfer to a university. None of us really knew what we didn’t know, and I don’t blame my parents for that. Because of it, I found my own path later in life and went to college as an older adult. Once they saw me graduate from university, none of that confusion mattered anymore. They were simply proud. At school, I learned to code-switch before I even knew there was a word for it. English with teachers, Spanish at home, and Spanglish with friends who got it. And yet, there’s something beautiful about being between worlds. You learn empathy early. You learn how to see from two perspectives at once. You understand how culture shapes identity, and how pride can live right alongside the fear of not being enough.
There are days when I feel deeply American and others when I feel like I’m still translating myself. Sometimes I mix languages in one sentence. Other times, I have to remind my bilingual brain to switch gears depending on who I’m talking to: formal English at work, Spanish with my parents, Spanglish with my sisters, and silence when I need a break from translating life itself. Sometimes when I come back from a trip to Mexico, everything around me in LA feels a little blah. The colors seem more faded, the food less flavorful, and I start missing the sound of street vendors and the warmth of random conversations with strangers. But then I find myself back in my Pilates class, surrounded by mats, playlists, and people sipping lattes, and suddenly I’m right back in LA-land, balanced between both worlds, as always.
In the U.S., I’ve often been seen as an “other,” which always makes me laugh a little. People ask where I’m from all the time, and I just smile because, technically speaking, my people are the original people of Los Angeles. So no, I’m not an “other.” I’m an OG (Original Gente), the ones who were here before the freeways, before the kale smoothies, and definitely before rent got this high! Still, I wouldn’t trade L.A. for anywhere else in the U.S.
But honestly, I wouldn’t trade my biculturalism. Being Mexican-American taught me resilience, humor, and how to find belonging wherever I go. For a long time, I didn’t feel like I was from here or there, caught in between two cultures that didn’t always seem to fit together. Now I realize I’m fully both, like a braid with two parts but made from the same hair. It’s in the way I greet people with warmth, how I show up for my comunidad, and why I believe healing has to honor both la mente and el corazón. So yes, I grew up between two worlds. And maybe that’s why I feel at home in both, and why I help others find home within themselves, too. 💚
If you’re navigating your own bicultural or first-generation journey, therapy can be a space to explore identity, belonging, and healing in both English and Spanish.
Para Pensar (For Reflection)
What parts of your identity have you learned to balance or blend?
How do you honor where you come from while still growing into who you’re becoming?
What’s something from your culture that you’ve redefined in your own way?