Seven years after moving from the US to Berlin, I was added to my first German WhatsApp group with the dog owners in my neighborhood. It felt like a miracle.
Up to that point, I always had passive interactions with other Germans. It became a game to get people — like the barista at my coffee shop or my grocery cashier — to smile at me. I had about a 30% success rate, a lot of strange looks, and the occasional scoff.
Where I'm from — Longmont, Colorado — I would smile at random people on the street and they'd smile back. I now realize that smiling at strangers isn't part of the culture in this city.
At the time, though, I was simply living my life in my bubble of international expat friends without fully integrating into German society. Not because I didn't want to but because it felt inaccessible like there was a wall that I couldn't penetrate.
Early on, we spent every weekend discovering WWII bunkers, eating Turkish döner, and singing Karaoke in the park on warm summer days.
The honeymoon phase didn't last, though.
After a particularly traumatic appointment, I severely doubted if I'd made the right choice to move here.
I messaged a friend for advice and received the tough love I needed. "If you don't really want this, then leave. But you'll never know how your life could turn out if you don't at least try," they said.
Four intense weeks later — after accumulating enough paperwork to fill an entire binder, being ghosted by my accountant, and storming into his office — I was granted my long-term visa.
Sadly, the struggles didn't end there.
Soon after, I had an encounter that permanently changed me One day, I was at a bar and overheard a group next to me bashing Americans, talking about how dumb and ear-piercingly loud they were.
I didn't feel like their comments were directed at me, specifically, but their very expressive disdain for American culture prompted me to chime in.
Feeling self-conscious, I tried to tell them this was just culture and that every culture has its quirks. I couldn't change their minds, though, and quickly learned these were not the type of people I wanted to hang around with.
To this day, I can't deny that the interaction affected me. My husband still catches me whispering when I'm in public places because I'm afraid of being considered too loud.
These experiences with the visa registration office, group in the bar, and unsmiling locals were unsettling and left me feeling like an outsider for years.
