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I don't live between two worlds. I live where they meet.

Soraya Mohamedi Mohamed · Psychologist · Socio-labour guidance counsellor · Specialist in interculturality and migration processes

I don’t live between two opposing worlds. I live in the space where they meet.

There was a time when I tried to find a place where I felt I belonged. In Spain, I was often made to feel I was “the Moroccan.” My surname, my features or my family history were enough for someone to decide, before even knowing me, that I wasn’t fully from here. Over the years I discovered the experience could repeat itself on the other side of the Mediterranean. In Morocco, to some people, I was already “the Spaniard.” As if building my life in another country had erased part of my roots.

No longer having to prove anything

For a long time I thought I had to prove something. Explain who I was. Convince some that I was also Spanish, and others that I was still Moroccan. Today I no longer feel that need. I’ve come to understand that identity doesn’t need to be validated by people who can only understand the world in closed categories. I’m not less Spanish for keeping my roots. Nor am I less Moroccan for having grown up between two cultures. Over time I understood that I don’t live between two opposing worlds. I live in the space where they meet.

What it means to be bicultural

That’s when I discovered the concept of biculturalism. A bicultural person is someone who has integrated two cultures into the way they understand the world and themselves. It doesn’t mean having to choose between one identity or the other, but building an identity of one’s own, enriched by both.

Bicultural people are natural bridges. We connect what, to others, can seem irreconcilable. We understand codes, languages, customs and ways of interpreting reality that are sometimes perceived as opposites. Not because we’re extraordinary people, but because our own history has taught us to live alongside that diversity.

Being bicultural doesn’t mean living divided. It means learning to integrate. Where others see borders, we can see meeting points. Where some find distance, we recognise similarities. That ability doesn’t erase conflicts or differences, but it does make dialogue, understanding and coexistence easier.

Not every migrant is bicultural

It’s often assumed that every immigrant, or every child of immigrants, is bicultural. But that’s not always the case. Biculturalism doesn’t depend solely on where our parents were born, or on the fact of having migrated. It’s built through experience: the language we speak, the relationships we form, the customs we make our own, and how both cultures come to shape our identity.

Some migrants mainly keep the culture of origin. Others also take on that of the country where they live. In the same way, some children of immigrants grow up identifying almost exclusively with one culture, while others develop a deep sense of belonging to both. There’s no single way of being bicultural. Every story is different.

Bridges between people, communities and cultures

Perhaps that’s why bicultural people can help bring people, communities and cultures closer together. We don’t just translate languages; we often also help interpret values, ways of communicating and different ways of understanding life. In increasingly diverse societies, that perspective can become a valuable resource for building trust and fostering coexistence.

A very simple example: Spain-Morocco

There’s a very simple example that sums up how I live that reality. When Spain and Morocco play a football match, many people ask me who I’m supporting. As if choosing were compulsory. And the truth is, I don’t choose. I want whoever plays best that day to win. If Spain wins, I’m glad. If Morocco wins, I’m glad too. And if either of them loses, I feel that small sadness that appears when something that’s also part of you hasn’t gone well.

For a long time I thought that way of feeling was a contradiction. Today I live it as a privilege. I don’t need to give up one country to love the other. My identity has room for both, for their histories, their cultures, their achievements and also their contradictions.

Belonging without asking permission

Maybe I’ll never get everyone to see me the same way. And that’s fine. Because belonging doesn’t depend solely on how others see you. It also depends on no longer asking permission to be who you are. Today I know I don’t need to choose between one part of me and the other. My identity isn’t a contradiction; it’s an addition. I’m not half of anything. I’m fully both.

And if there’s one thing I’ve learned along this path, it’s that bicultural people aren’t meant to live between two shores, but to connect them. To show that it’s possible to love two cultures without one taking value away from the other. To remember that diversity doesn’t have to divide; it can also bring people closer. Because sometimes, the place we belong to isn’t in a single country. It’s, precisely, in the bridge we’re able to build between the two.

Soraya Mohamedi Mohamed · Psychologist · Socio-labour guidance counsellor · Specialist in interculturality and migration processes