I am in Japan.
It's always so strange when I come back here- to be somewhere so familiar, yet so distant.
Japan was my first home, and my first identity. When I visit, I often feel this irrational fear to prove something. They look at me and they see a gaijin (a foreigner) and I feel this desperate need to prove them wrong. To show them that I am still one of them.
That despite blood, I am Japanese. I was taught to walk, speak, act like a Japanese... You will not hear an accent in my voice. This was once my home, please accept me.
It's nice being here with my mom- spending time with her, eating old familiar foods, sitting in the tatami room, having conversations. These are the sorts of things I miss when I am away. Mama made me homemade ramen last night- I felt at home.
Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I'd moved back here- after leaving my ex, I needed to escape. I considered transferring schools to Tokyo, and coming back here to live with my parents. In fact, I'd be moving right about now. Life would be very different if I had... I don't know if it would have been better though.
I am so fortunate to have a home here. In a country that so many people are fascinated by, I only see comfort. I am very lucky.