You’re at a student event. A conference. Or just hanging out at a bar.
Someone asks: “Where are you from?”
You answer instantly: Bulgarian. Polish. Greek. Italian.
Almost nobody says: European.
And yet, this is the most mobile generation Europe has ever seen.
Studying abroad. Working across borders. Falling in love in other languages.
So why does “European” still feel like a second answer when we identify ourselves?
For most of us, identity is learned long before it’s questioned. Family, school, language, history, etc. All of that shapes who we think we are before we ever leave home. National identity feels inherited. European identity, on the other hand, is rarely taught as something lived. It usually comes later through travelling and mobility, living abroad, personal experience, exposure to culture, traditions, cuisine, and more. You don’t start to identify as an European citizen; you often become one by building your experience and view of the world.
This is what Erasmus students often describe as a shift after their first semester abroad. Or why young professionals only begin to feel European once they’ve worked in international teams. Or why digital nomads, exchange participants, and cross-border couples talk about Europe as something they experience and become part of. European identity doesn’t replace national identity.
It layers on top of it.
This shift usually starts with exposure. Living in more than one country. Collaborating with people who don’t share your cultural shortcuts. Realising that what once felt “foreign” quickly becomes normal and familiar. And so this doesn’t feel abstract, I brought two personal stories to represent the process. Alberto Bichi is the executive director of EPSI – European Platform for Sports Innovation.
His life reflects this almost unintentionally. He didn’t grow up choosing a European identity. He grew up inside it:
“I have a very, very European background. I was born in Italy, in Rome, but at the age of 11, I went to the Netherlands. There were no Italian schools, so my father introduced me to the French system. I went to a French school while being raised by a German mother in the Netherlands. I was immediately confronted with this very European context… and this was really the origin of my wish to become European more than just Italian.”
What this kind of upbringing reveals early is something many young Europeans discover later: diversity doesn’t erase identity. It sharpens it. At the same time, it exposes something else.
“Sometimes politicians use identity to build against each other, and I think this is wrong. At the end of the day, we’re all human beings. We all have our passions, our fundamental values. Whether Italian, Bulgarian, or whatever – we are very, very alike. Let’s not create barriers and let’s try to work hand in hand, because ultimately we are all identical”, says Alberto.
For Professor Ingrid Shikova, European identity is not a legal status. It’s a state of mind. She is a leading expert in European integration and one of the founders of the European Studies Department at Sofia University “St. Kliment Ohridski.” She serves as the academic coordinator of the Jean Monnet Centre of Excellence and has dedicated her entire academic career to the study and teaching of European Union policies and identity.
She remembers the early 1990s in Bulgaria, when Europe felt distant and unreachable. Young people had limited opportunities to travel, low confidence, and a quiet sense of inferiority compared to their Western peers. The phrase “We are Europeans, but not quite” captured the mood of the time:
“In the first years after 1989, Bulgarian society and young people in particular felt far from Europe. There was a lack of confidence, a sense of isolation, and limited opportunities for mobility.”, she recalls.
Today, her students are different. They were born into an EU member state. They travel. They participate in Erasmus+ programs. They carry themselves with more confidence and a clearer sense of belonging.
“European identity today is much stronger among young people than it was in the early 1990s.”, she states.
But professor Shikova is clear: this identity doesn’t come automatically. Education plays a crucial role. Not through facts, but through experience:
“European citizenship is learned by living together. When students visit Brussels or Strasbourg, Europe stops being an abstract idea. It becomes a place where decisions are made by people they can relate to.”
Such visits to Brussels or Strasbourg, participation in Erasmus projects, and simulations like Euroscola. All of these experiences turn abstract institutions into lived reality. Students return inspired because Europe becomes something tangible. Interestingly, she notes when European identity often becomes strongest:
“We feel most European when we are outside Europe.”
In moments abroad, when Europe is seen from the outside, shared values, culture, and history become more visible. Moments of crisis or symbolism can also trigger this feeling.
“Events like the fire at Notre Dame created a strong emotional reaction across Europe. People felt personal loss. Not as French citizens, but as Europeans.”
Alberto echoes this from a professional perspective. Through his past work in European cooperation networks (including EPSI), he sees daily proof that collaboration across borders works best when people stop protecting identities and start sharing goals.
“Europe for me is not a concept. It’s something I live every day.”
For both Professor Shikova and Alberto, European identity is neither automatic nor ideological. It emerges when people move, collaborate, and build things together. Whether through education, professional cooperation, or everyday life across borders.
“If you dare to go abroad,” Alberto says, “you understand that there is nothing to be protected from.”
European identity doesn’t cancel national identity. It expands it. In a future shaped by mobility, mixed teams, and cross-border careers. In sport, innovation, sustainability, culture, or tech – the ability to think beyond one country becomes an advantage.
European identity doesn’t start with flags or institutions. Or with what is written in your passport. It is an experience. One that grows through movement, personal encounters, and exploration.
The only real question is how much of that experience you’re willing to live.
Do you have anything to add to this story? Any ideas for interviews or angles we should explore? Let us know if you’d like to write a follow-up, a counterpoint, or share a similar story.
