Weaving through a fine line

The strange thing about living in Brugge as an expat is that there is a fine line that I tend to weave in and out of, depending how the day goes…On one hand, like most of the locals, I can get really irritated by the stampede of tourists that mindlessly roam the streets disregarding cars and bikes… Peering through windows with cupped hands that, yes, are in fact people’s homes. Stuffing their faces with chocolates, and waffles, and french fries in middle of the sidewalk, making your 15 minute trip to wherever your going take forever.
On the other hand, as an expat, I also know what it feels like to be treated like a tourist, to be looked at with disdain. To be yet again immediately labeled as “some American” with absolutely no interest of where I come from or who I am. To be ignored, or worse, have eyes rolled at me for simply saying “excuse me” when I want to pass them.
Most of the people I have met here are really genuinely sweet… And yes, tourists can be really annoying... but hey, that’s people in general.

I guess the reason why I’m writing about this, is because when we visited Amsterdam, I was amazed by how many people were nice to us. I even said this to a local man to which he responded with "Why wouldn't we be?" Now looking back, maybe this was just a normal level of courteousness… Maybe I have just been living in Brugge so long that I’ve become accustomed to people being cold and negative.
 There is this sense of pride, and unity here for tourism-hating, the level of which I find disheartening. To feel included, I have at times joined in with the animosity towards tourism. 

But I don’t want to be apart of that anymore. I know what it feels like on the other side, and it's pretty horrible.