7 Eye-Opening Things I Learned About America By Listening To The Rest Of The World

The Most Honest Truths I Heard About the U.S. Didn’t Come From Headlines. They Came From Conversations Abroad That Left Me Speechless.

P.S. I published another story this week too. I’ve tucked the link at the bottom so you don’t miss it.

“Is it true you keep a gun in your glove compartment?”

That question came from a well-meaning woman I met in a café in Phuket, Thailand, and she was dead serious.

A few months earlier in an Irish hostel, a French backpacker casually explained to me that Americans were the happiest, loudest people he’d ever met, before adding, “But maybe too loud?”

And in a tiny side street bar in Tirana, Albania, a guy leaned in after a few drinks and said, “You Americans always believe things will work out. Why?”

What started as casual conversations over coffee, rakija, or suspiciously strong homemade wine turned into full-blown identity therapy sessions.

I’d moved abroad to explore the world.

I didn’t expect the world to explore me.

After years living in Ukraine, Georgia, Albania, and a handful of other corners of the globe that don’t show up on typical expat Instagram accounts, I noticed something strange.

I was learning just as much about America by leaving it as I ever had growing up in it.

Not from books or Netflix documentaries.

From real people.

From random encounters in Macedonian kebab shops to language mix-ups in rural Romania.

Then there was the long bus ride through the tenuous borderland and hills of Northern Greece and North Macedonia where someone once asked me, “Is it true Americans don’t take vacations?”

This was in a region where Greece’s northern province of Macedonia and the neighboring country, North Macedonia, had spent 30 years disputing the same name.

If you’ve ever thought the only way to understand your country is to stay in it, I’ve got seven surprising truths that say otherwise.

What I discovered abroad changed how I see home forever.

And no, I don't keep a gun in my glove compartment. I don’t even own a car anymore.

1. “You’re All So Confident. How Do You Do It?”

In Georgia, over a glass of homemade wine strong enough to knock out a small elephant, a local English teacher asked me how Americans manage to be so confident all the time. “You speak like everything is going to work out,” she said. “Even when it clearly won’t.”

At first, I laughed. But then I realized she was serious.

From her perspective, American confidence wasn’t inspiring… it was kind of baffling.

To her, it came off as naive, even arrogant.

But I got it. We’re raised on pep talks. From kindergarten classrooms with “You can do anything!” posters to job interviews where we’re told to “sell ourselves,” confidence is baked into American culture like high-fructose corn syrup in everything else.

Lesson: What feels like self-belief to us can come off as showboating elsewhere.

Confidence is great, but listening, really listening, is what builds trust across cultures.

2. “Why Do You Work So Hard for So Little Time Off?”

In Krakow, I casually mentioned that most Americans get two weeks of vacation a year. My Polish CELTA coursemate nearly spit out his beer.

“Two weeks?” he asked, blinking. “Is that even legal?”

To him, it was absurd. In Poland, a lazy summer lunch can last longer than an American vacation.

The whole idea that we grind for 50 weeks just to take 10 days off sounded like some kind of dystopian comedy.

And honestly, I didn’t have a good defense. We’re known for glorifying being busy, wear burnout like a badge, and act shocked when our bodies eventually revolt.

Lesson: The rest of the world works to live. Americans often live to work.

If you're not careful, you'll end up with a great résumé and no memories.

3. “Is It True Everyone Owns a Car… even Teenagers?”

While in Bulgaria, a local I was speaking with asked if it was true that American teens had their own cars.

When I said yes, he looked at me like I’d just told him we give toddlers their own condos.

In places like Sofia or Kyiv, you might not even need a car until you have kids. But in suburban America, it’s practically a survival tool.

No car means no independence.

No independence means you're grounded, literally and socially.

Growing up in the U.S., I didn’t think twice about driving at 16. It was a right of passage. It represented a young person’s first taste of real freedom and independence (at least it did before smartphones and apps).

Abroad, though, it made me see how deeply car culture is tied to everything from identity to isolation.

Lesson: Freedom behind the wheel is great… until you realize it comes with traffic, debt, and a dependency we barely question.

4. “Americans Are Friendly. But Do You Mean It?”

At a wine bar in southern France, I made the mistake of cheerfully asking the bartender how his night was going.

He raised an eyebrow and replied, “Why do you care?”

Touché.

In the U.S., friendliness is automatic. Smiles, compliments, "how are yous" that don’t require answers.

But in places like France or Ukraine, social warmth means something different.

You don’t fake interest unless you mean it.

I’ve had deeper conversations with Ukrainian neighbors in Donetsk, before all hell broke loose in 2014 over shots of vodka, than I ever had with coworkers back home during “mandatory fun” Fridays.

Lesson: Friendly isn’t the same as genuine. Abroad, depth often matters more than pleasantries.

Sometimes silence is the sincerest form of respect.

5. “How Can You Be So Free Yet So Divided?”

One night at a café in Thessaloniki, a Greek guy leaned in and asked, “So you’re free to say whatever you want in America, right?” I nodded.

“Then why does it seem like everyone’s screaming and no one’s listening?”

That one hit.

The U.S. loves to shout about freedom, speech, guns, choice, everything.

But when freedom gets weaponized, it stops being liberating and starts being exhausting.

Abroad, people saw this not as strength, but as chaos wrapped in a flag.

Lesson: Freedom is only valuable when paired with responsibility.

Without it, liberty turns into noise, and nobody hears each other.

6. “I Wish My Country Had Your Optimism”

In a quiet Romanian town, a high school teacher told me something that stuck. “Americans always believe things can get better,” she said. “That’s your real power.”

She wasn’t mocking me. She meant it.

Even when we’re frustrated or failing, we hold on to that stubborn belief in fresh starts.

New jobs. New cities. Reinvention.

It’s beautiful, and at times, borderline delusional.

But maybe that’s the point.

Lesson: Hope is underrated. Cynicism might make you look smart, but optimism gets you through things.

Especially when there’s no reason it should.

7. “You Say Anything Is Possible. Do You Believe That?”

I met an Irish backpacker in a pilgrim’s hostel on the Camino De Santiago in Spain. After a long night of tapas and cheap wine, he asked me if I believed in the American Dream.

Not in theory. But really believed it.

I paused.

I’d grown up with it, sold it in college essays, rolled my eyes at it in adulthood, and rediscovered it in the oddest of places, like watching a struggling Ukrainian family build a life with more joy than many back home.

So yes. I still kind of do.

Lesson: The American Dream may be dented and marketed to death, but the idea that your circumstances don’t define your future still matters.

Even if you have to leave the U.S. to see it clearly.

What the World Taught Me About Home

Living abroad didn’t just change how I see the world. It rewired how I see home.

America is a walking contradiction, loud and kind, proud and insecure, deeply divided but still full of dreams.

I went abroad to escape it, question it, and yes, sometimes roll my eyes at it.

But what I found was that even far away, you carry your country with you.

And sometimes, the only way to understand it is through the eyes of someone who’s never been there.

What’s something someone abroad said about your country that made you stop and think?

If you’re a paid subscriber, share it in the comments…I’d love to hear it.

📌 In Case You Missed This…

I published another story this week that didn’t go out by email. If you’re curious or want more, here’s what else I dropped: