That 'Mid-Atlantic' Feeling

When does an American expat living in the UK begin feeling the dissonance of being away just long enough from the mainland States to feel hopelessly out of touch with the minutiae of American life, sentiment, and in some cases friends or family, but not so deeply entrenched into British culture as to forget one is in fact and will always be an American? 

For me there was no definitive point in time, but rather a realization that has tiptoed slowly and quietly into my periphery.  Having adapted and incorporated much of the British language and culture as part of my integration into UK life, but feeling inexorably connected at heart to my Kansas roots, I wonder if given enough years abroad, I will no longer feel fully equipped to relate entirely to one or the other?

I imagine this is that ‘Mid-Atlantic’ feeling that I have heard other expats referring to. 

I am certainly not there yet, but my raft is undoubtedly starting to drift away from shore.  For the folks at ‘home’, there is no need to worry.  I don’t believe an American of my age can ever become so immersed British culture as to be mistaken for entirely British.  Ever.  After all, I’m not changing my accent (though my husband insists some of my intonations are evolving), my upbringing, my memory, or the first forty years of my life as I knew it.  I’m still me, and people who knew me before will still know and recognize me. 

What has changed are some little things.  My vocabulary is rife with British expressions and words, though I believe I revert back to Americanisms when communicating with Americans.  I use British spellings and date format (except when writing to Americans, though I’m admittedly wavering in the context of this blog which is sometimes read by people on both side of the pond).  I’m possibly a better driver than I was before, given the new challenges I faced in adapting to new roads and rules.  I queue even more automatically and politely than before.  I sometimes eat in a hybrid fashion, using my knife to coax food onto my fork as the British do, but stubbornly continuing to use my fork as a scoop of sorts rather than an (upside down from my perspective) lifting implement.  I am finding I have a broader understanding of worldwide perspectives on things.  I am increasingly having to research news out of the U.S. involving names or issues I don’t find immediately familiar.  I am better traveled than I once was.  I am used to less space and can do more with less (not a unique function of living in the UK, but unique to a Kansas gal who was used to wide open spaces).  My priorities are probably changing, but then they will anyway in this decade of my life. 

Hopefully, any changes will just make me a more well-rounded person.  I love both my roots and my new country of residence.  After two and a half years, I still have no regrets about my choice, and look forward to hopefully many more years of navigating this Mid-Atlantic feeling.