All my Japanese family are extremely self-contained and self-reliant. When I’m with them I feel like an emotional outlier. We’re moonlight and lamplight; they’re steadfast, commanding, and distant, whereas everything pours out of me and bounces off at close range. I assume it’s something in the conservative social structure that trains them to self-regulate well. In the same way you’d teach a puppy to sit, roll over, and ‘give me paw’, I imagine my mum and grandma were taught to self-soothe, cry on their own, and not harass people with their problems. I know in Japan there’s a consensus that allowing your issues to spill out is a kind of cultural malice. That by relying on others you’re doing harm to the larger society as a whole. The atmosphere is orderly, the law severe, and generations of people conforming to unspoken social rules ensures that any nails sticking out of the floorboards get swiftly hammered back in. 

When I meet Japanese people I feel so English. I’m the nail out of the floorboard, I spill over the edge, and I can’t help but wish to be more self-contained. I cry easily over anything no matter how big or small. At the beginning of the year, I wondered what my first cry would be about. I didn’t have to wonder for long as I sat at a pub surrounded by smiling friends while I wept big salty tears about being poor. Not that being poor is an illegitimate reason to cry, but the fact is that I am not that poor. I can live fairly happily for now, I’m not struggling to pay my bills nor am I restricted to eating plain toast and ramen. The situation is not dire and yet I couldn’t help but cry. A more Japanese person would not have cried, or at least would have waited until they got home. I’ve never seen anyone cry in Japan. I’ve never seen two people hold hands in the street or heard someone raise their voice, or watched people peck one another goodbye before getting off the Shinkansen.

I remember in 2022 when Japan’s longest-serving Prime Minister, Shinzo Abe, was assassinated at a rally and it was a huge shock. Abe’s approval ratings were low when he resigned two years prior. He was a Japanese nationalist and his famous Abenomics, an economic plan to help aid places worst hit but the 2011 earthquake, did not quite work out. When he was killed he was in a wide-open intersection. From the photos, it looks like anyone could go right up and touch him. According to CNN, there were only nine reported deaths from firearms in Japan in 2018, compared to 39,740 in the same year in the US. It’s true that Japan has strict gun laws, but the outlandish act sticks out like a sore thumb in modern Japanese society, no matter the method. When asked why he did it, the killer said he had ‘a grudge’ against Abe. I find that a funny sentiment for someone who has just murdered a person with a homemade gun. The things I would say I have a grudge against are sharing my food, working late, and my sister because she earns more money than me. It’s possible that Japanese news didn’t want to let Abe’s murderer have a public say on why they did what they did, but I wonder what they really felt and how they ended up jumping to the extreme. Japan is a place where people follow all the rules. Where no one crosses the road at a red light despite the lack of cars; it’s hard to imagine an assassination could happen in a place like that. Maybe that’s just how I feel from the outside looking in. 

My mother is not a very expressive person and she is very Japanese despite living here for thirty-five years. I can’t quite put my finger on what qualities make her so Japanese. I remember when I was younger she kept calling me a loser and my sister and I couldn’t work out why but she’d say it all the time. One day I asked her why she was calling me a loser and she just pointed at me repeating “You are a loser, you are a loser, you are a loser”. Later I asked again and she said “You are a loser. You always lose stuff”. She is very self-reliant, I’ve never seen her cry. I did see her yell once when I was meant to be getting ready for school but was refusing and being extremely irritating. She doesn’t seem like the kind of person who has a lot of feelings although I know she does because we all do. She has the ability to manage them so well. I wish I had that too. 

I worry about being too reliant on people and making them feel drained, I would hate to be the red sock in the whitewash that turns everything pink. If I moved to Japan now I’m sure I’d be a cultural pariah. I’d cry on the warmed-up seat of the Toto toilet at work then into my rice balls from the Seven-Eleven when I got home. People would think I’m insane. They’d probably have a detail on me for ‘potential assassins’ and I’d never be able to go near a political rally even if I wanted to. I don’t know how to become more self-reliant like my mum and my grandma, other than going back in time and being born in Japan. Maybe it’s better to be born here because at least you have the choice to be an emotional mess rather than forcing everything down for the good of society. I know this has negative effects on people’s mental health. The loneliness epidemic in Japan is shocking for a country so densely populated. But I can’t help but think it teaches you some good life skills.

This week I had this delicious Pain au Chocolat from the market at Victoria Park! I’ve noticed that pastries have become TikTok-ified and now the classic pain au chocolat or plain croissant can’t reach up to a bun bursting with cream or a pistachio-filled cube croissant with sprinkles of green nuts on the top. This pain au chocolat had been sufficiently tarted up with the chocolate stripes, and I have to say its rebrand worked wonders on me. 

Goodbye for now.

 * I’d like to flag that while I do cry a lot nothing is seriously wrong, I know mostly my friends read this so please don’t be concerned, I’m just a tearful gal!