
My identity has always been a mixed feeling. On the one hand, my grandfather (my mother’s father) was from Madrid and all his children have a strong feeling of being Spanish, understood as mainly speaking Castilian and understanding Spain as one unity with a common culture. On the other hand, my grandfather (my father’s father) felt himself as a Catalan integrated in an ideally plural Spain, where all different cultures could learn from each other and live together.
Myself, I feel Catalan, but I also feel Spanish. I feel Catalan because I understand and share a common culture that surrounds me. I feel this culture as unique (as other are) and worth preserving and protecting. I love the mountains, rivers, cities, towns and sea of Catalunya. I feel it is my country, the land where I was born, where I lived for 25 years. It is the land loved by the people I love. Though my mother tongue is not Catalan (my mother and father always spoke to me in Spanish), when I hear someone speaking it I feel at home.
I feel Spanish because I feel comfortable and myself when I speak Spanish. My behaviour and culture reflect in many acts and words what others all around the peninsula do and say. When I think of love and sex, I imagine passion and depth, an act that joins two people beyond its mechanics and physical pleasure. When I think of Spain – of Sevilla, Toledo, San Sebastian, Formentera, Ronda or Madrid – or I am with Spaniards, I feel at home.
These two identities are for many hard to combine. In my mind and heart they do exist together. And I feel happy about it. At then end, what is really important as humans is not what we “objectively” think is true, but how we feel about it. And I feel good about being Catalan and Spanish at the same time. I just wish others could listen more to their feelings and make their mind an accomplice of them. Perhaps we all will understand that we share more than we think.