Once again, it came over me with full force, like a bolt out of the blue.
At the moment, we have Peter’s Finnish relatives staying with us on their very first visit to Australia. It has been such a joy to show them places that have become part of our story here. We have travelled through the outback, across the vast and ancient heart of this country, and I have found myself seeing Australia again through their eyes.
This morning, they headed off to explore Melbourne on their own while I stayed home for a quiet day of rest. As they were leaving, Peter’s cousin Erkki said something simple to me.
You are an Aussie.
His words stayed behind in the silence of the house.
Being Finnish-Australian, and having arrived here as a migrant child, I have spent much of my life with one foot in each world. I carry two countries within me. Two histories. Two ways of seeing and feeling. At times that has felt like a gift. At other times, like a quiet ache I could never quite explain.
So where do I belong?
There are days when I feel I belong nowhere completely, neither here nor there. And then there are days when I feel I belong deeply in both, fully Finnish and fully Australian, without needing to tear myself in two.
At fifty-six, I have lived twelve years in Finland and forty-four in Australia. But identity is not something that can be measured neatly in numbers. My Finnish roots, the land of my birth, and the love I carry for it still run deeper than mathematics.
As all this was moving through me, a song came on the radio. Peter Allen’s I Still Call Australia Home. And there I was, naturally Nordic me, suddenly in tears, turning up the volume and singing along until emotion rose in my throat and I could no longer get the words out.
It caught me off guard, and yet perhaps it should not have.
Because as deeply as Finland lives in me, so too does Australia. This is the land where I grew up, where I became who I am, where so much of my life has unfolded.
And even as I stood there with tears in my eyes, I knew something else just as true. I would likely respond in much the same way to Juuret Suomessa or to the Finlandia hymn. Those songs would stir another part of me, but no less deeply. They would call up memory, longing, belonging, and love.
Perhaps that is what biculturalism is. Not confusion. Not divided loyalty. Just a heart made wide enough to hold two homes.
Bicultural people are invaluable in today’s world because they are bridges between the cultures they belong to. They carry understanding across borders in a way few others can. Perhaps that, too, is part of the gift.
Most days, I do not analyse it all. I simply live my life. But every now and then, something small — a passing comment, a song on the radio, an unexpected moment — gently reminds me how deeply these two countries have shaped me.
And perhaps that is enough.
I do not have to choose one over the other.
I do not have to explain it perfectly.
I only have to honour what is true.
Finland lives in me.
Australia does too.
And somewhere in that tender space between the two, I have made my home.
Apples of Gold 
What an eloquent, ardent, emotional and ah, so to the point, reflection of one’s complex identity…affinity to two cultures, not competing with but complementing each other, the beauty of which is so different yet so real and honest in so many uplifting ways.
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Thank you!! Yes, two totally different countries, languages and cultures. Both so beautiful in their own way. And the thoughts on identity are complex indeed!
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I so agree, “Bicultural people are invaluable in today’s world since they are bridges between the cultures they belong to…”. They enrich us!
Anne-Marie
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How wonderful to hear that you agree! I have always felt that my calling in life is to be a bridge.
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The picture of a bridge is so rich! In a way, people walk on bridges and that must hurt at times. The bridge may creak with the weight and need repairs. Yet a bridge would also witness people coming and going and delight in that. There would be delightful conversations on the bridge. The bridge would relish the ability to give freedom to people to go into spaces they never thought possible. A bridge is a constant in the dark and in the light. I like the idea that the Holy Spirit may be a bridge builder. Being called to be a bridge opens up many possibilities while being firmly grounded where it is. There is an invitation in the calling for others to also become bridges…..
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Wow!! I love your thoughts on bridges! These kinds of thoughts are precious o me!!!
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Thanks so much for inspiring me to think about it…
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🧡😊
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So well and beautifully written 😊.
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Thank you Hanna, so much!!!
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I was almost in tears as well when reading this. I have always wanted to visit Australia, in fact when I was a teenager we came close to moving there. Australia is still on my bucket list. Maybe someday. I share the same type of feelings sometimes but at a lesser degree of cultural differences I am sure. I am from the United States. I was born in Idaho and currently live in Montana. As a child we moved quite often. I lived in Idaho, California, and Oregon. As an adult I have lived in Washington, Nevada, and Montana, where we still remain. Although life in the U.S. is much the same, each state has its own little cultural differences. I love Montana and call it home, but a part of my heart and who I am is still part all those places I’ve lived ,and the memories that were lived in each place will live with and be a part of me forever.
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Maybe someday indeed!!! How lovely to hear my writing has touched you. Yes, moving from one place to another does tend to do something to us. Thank you SO much for sharing your thoughts with me!!!
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Please publish a book of short stories, Jaana. These are so very good!
Anneli 😊
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Thank you Anneli!! I have to consider doing so!
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