I recently received my very first British passport, which ironically coincided with an unexpected insight into how I’m seen abroad as a Swede. This revelation came as I was making my way through a small Greek airport, towards my London-bound flight. Clutching my brand-new passport, I could not stop unhinged thoughts from racing through my mind. What would happen at the UK border?!

Acquiring British citizenship is by no means a small feat, but I still somehow felt like a fraud. Would alarms go off as I attempted to use my never used before passport? Would I get instantly rejected? In my anxious state, I failed to remember that there is a passport control going OUT of Greece. Without thinking, I gave the border agent the passport that was in my hand. It was only when she started frowning, leafing through page after page, looking for a stamp that was not there, that I realised my mistake.

Turning full-blown Brit, I began apologising unreservedly and excessively explaining that I had entered Greece using my Swedish passport, and should therefore – of course – have handed her this, sorry, sorry, SORRY!!! This made the agent call over a second agent, and together they observed my mortified display of regret (along with my two passports) with admirable patience.

They had a brief discussion in Greek, before the second agent performed a formidable eyeroll, declaring: ‘Σουηδέζα’ (Swedish) and waved me through. What did it say about her conclusion of me as a Swede? Honestly, I don’t care and remain grateful for her assessment. Using my British passport back in London felt anticlimactic after this. No alarms went off and I entered the country without fuss. Lesson learned? Don’t let being a dual-citizen become a dual-drama. And learn more Greek, παρακαλώ.

Maria Smedstad bio

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