How I’m Overcoming Isolation The Second Time Moving Overseas

You know that friend who never answers their phone, and only maybe replies to your text a month later?

Well… that’s me.

It’s like I’m allergic to opening emails, and I’m pretty sure my voicemail is actually a portal to the black hole. I’ve been this way for quite some time, and even though I knew it was annoying for others, somehow I’ve still managed to have friends and didn’t give it much thought. “It’s my character flaw” I’d joke.

But now—2 months into my solo journey in Japan—I’m being forced to reexamine this habit and where it came from. Constantly entering new spaces alone and no familiar faces around, my quiet phone line suddenly felt empty and an old, familiar feeling of isolation started to surface.

. . .

This past August, I boarded an airplane to Japan with a one-way ticket. I left behind my beautiful home, my friends, my work, my family, and my life partner.

All, because I needed to follow my dream.

This may sound dramatic, but it wasn’t the first time I “left it all behind”.

. .

When I was 13 living in a rural town in Chiba prefecture, Japan, my parents and I decided it’d be a good idea to try living in the U.S. for a couple of years. Mostly to experience life on my dad’s side of the world (the Pacific Northwest), and partly to sidestep the rigorous Japanese high school entrance exams.

So I left my parents, friends and everything I knew behind, and moved in with my aunt and uncle near Seattle. This was my first one-way ticket.

Back then—in August, 2003—social media and internet communication technology was like a baby just learning to crawl. AOL Instant Messenger was the the coolest thing (also where I learned that “lol” is not an emoji), and Myspace and Skype… was being born that very month. (Oh, and Britney Spears was still around.)

International calls were expensive, so check-ins with my parents were 10 minute phone calls on birthdays and holidays only. For the first year I fervently hand wrote 5-6 page letters to friends back home, and scoured the web to copy/paste one Japanese character at a time to piece together short texts messages (we didn’t have a Japanese keyboard).

Like I said, that was the first year.

My efforts to stay in touch slowly dwindled. My 14 year old hands couldn’t capture all the words needed to bridge my new world with the world of my friends back home. Everyone felt far away; international call rates remained high.

Needless to say, I felt very isolated. There was nobody I could share the two worlds I carried.

. .

That’s when I started to develop this habit.

This habit of filtering out people who are not in my immediate world. I stopped trying to stay in touch— feeling defeated by distance.

I compartmentalized my different selves, and learned to push through on my own without expecting support. I only focused on people in my immediate world, because anyone else felt too far.

. . .

Fast forward to today, that isolation I once experienced had turned into my feeling overwhelmed by the task of “keeping in touch”.

This wasn’t really a problem in the city with many opportunities to bump into friends. But now on my journey, I’m bouncing from one secluded village in the mountains to another in a country I haven’t lived in for 16 years.

Experiencing so many changes and seeing new things, but unable to connect the two worlds, I started to feel that same isolation I felt so long ago. I felt like cutting myself off and disappearing into the mountains of Japan.

That’s when I realized I needed to write a new narrative. This time around, my relocation story will not be colored by isolation. There may be moments of loneliness, but it will NOT be a theme.

So what’s been my saving grace?

To my own surprise, the very same apps I used to “not notice” for weeks at a time. The very thing that once caused me mild anxiety somehow turned into a tool for my emotional health. Now I check my messages AND respond multiple times a day. Wow!

I guess I’m ready to feel supported and cared for. To debunk my own beliefs about being alone. I’m realizing that it’s not a weakness but rather a strength to ask for support. Especially while on a journey or starting a new chapter in life. Our hearts need emotional fuel to keep going.

This is a screenshot of a group call I had this week with people I consider family. Connecting from 3 different countries (Japan, U.S. and Tanzania) with 3 totally different time zones, it was a testament to how important it was for all of us to make the time to connect.

Each of us at the beginning of a new life chapter, being able to share our new surroundings, routines, struggles and discoveries… I felt held, seen and grounded.

There’s a new emotion attaching itself to the act of “staying in touch” and I’m realizing that I can stay a whole person with feet in two different countries.

So if you ever find yourself far from your community and feeling a bit lonely, remember my story and reach out to someone. If you need to, make up a reason to call your people, push yourself if you’re wanting to isolate yourself. Reach out and nourish your courage to continue on your journey.

And if you resonate with any of my writings, please send some love with a comment, share, follow, like or a message! Let me know.

Believe me, I’m paying attention now… and it means a lot!