Living Abroad Identity: Embracing the Person You've Become
- Locus of Life
- Nov 15, 2024
- 5 min read
Perhaps you've experienced moments when you suddenly realise you've changed.
Not in a dramatic way.
Not in a way anyone else would necessarily notice.
But in a quiet moment that catches you by surprise.
I often find those moments when I return to Japan.
During my last visit, I was travelling on a train when I suddenly felt a wave of panic.
In the UK, it isn't unusual to hear people talking on their phones while travelling.
If someone is speaking loudly, it may draw attention,
but phone conversations themselves are generally accepted.
In Japan, however, the social expectations are different.
Most people keep their phones on silent, and taking a call on a train is usually avoided.
I knew that. I grew up with those expectations.
Yet somehow, I had forgotten to switch my phone to silent mode.
The moment it rang, I instinctively panicked.
As I hurried to find it, my first thought was:
"Oh no."
Nobody said anything.
No one looked at me disapprovingly.
But all at once, those familiar social expectations came rushing back,
and I felt unexpectedly embarrassed.
What stayed with me afterwards wasn't the embarrassment itself.
It was the realisation that something which once felt completely natural h
ad quietly faded into the background.
For a moment, I felt strangely unsettled.
I was still Japanese.
And yet some instincts that once felt automatic no longer came quite so naturally.
It wasn't a major event.
But sometimes these small moments reveal changes we hadn't realised were happening.
Sometimes We Notice Our Changes Only When We Go Home
When we're living abroad, it can be difficult to see how much we've changed.
Life unfolds gradually.
We adapt little by little.
The customs that once felt unfamiliar begin to feel normal.
The expressions that once confused us become second nature.
Our sense of personal space changes.
The way we communicate changes.
Even our relationship with time, politeness, and social expectations may shift.
None of this happens overnight.
The changes are often so gradual that we barely notice them.
Then one day, we return home.
And suddenly something feels different.
Perhaps conversations feel slightly unfamiliar.
Perhaps social expectations feel more exhausting than they once did.
Perhaps you find yourself hesitating over words in your own language.
Or perhaps you realise you've forgotten rules you once followed automatically.
In those moments, it's easy to wonder:
"Have I lost part of myself?"
But perhaps that isn't what has happened.
Perhaps another way of living has simply become part of who you are.
How Living Abroad Identity Evolves Over Time
One reason the experience of living abroad identity can feel so confusing
is that adaptation often happens quietly.
Living in another country asks a great deal of us.
We learn new ways of communicating.
We build relationships across cultural differences.
We adjust to expectations that may be very different from those we grew up with.
Over time, we naturally absorb parts of the culture around us.
Adaptation is not about abandoning who we are.
It is about learning how to live in a new environment.
So when returning home feels strange, it doesn't mean you've become someone else.
Nor does it mean you've stopped belonging.
It simply means that the person you are today is not exactly the same person who first left home.
I remember feeling sad when I first recognised this.
It felt as though I had drifted away from an earlier version of myself.
But gradually, I came to see something else.
Those changes reflected the life I had built.
The challenges I had navigated.
The experiences that had shaped me.
The resilience I had developed along the way.
The Feeling of Not Fully Belonging Anywhere
The discomfort often goes deeper than language or social customs.
For me, the harder question was this:
Where do I belong now?
When I am in Japan, there are moments when I feel I should be more Japanese.
When I return to the UK, I am reminded that I am not British.
I have people I love in both countries.
I have meaningful connections in both places.
And yet there are moments when I do not feel fully rooted in either.
Not entirely here.
Not entirely there.
Somewhere in between.
For a long time, I saw this as a problem.
I felt I should fit more comfortably into one identity or the other.
But now I see it differently.
I've spent nearly half my life in Britain.
Of course I have changed.
Perhaps it would be stranger if I hadn't.
The person who left home many years ago and the person I am today
were never going to remain exactly the same.
Perhaps You Haven't Lost Yourself
— Perhaps You've Expanded
Living abroad has introduced me to people, ideas,
and perspectives I would never otherwise have encountered.
It has challenged assumptions I once took for granted.
It has shown me different ways of understanding the world.
There have been misunderstandings.
Moments of frustration.
Mistakes.
Growth.
And all of it has become part of who I am.
So I don't believe I have lost my connection to Japan.
Rather, my life has grown bigger than it once was.
I am still Japanese.
But I now carry experiences that extend beyond the culture in which I was raised.
For a long time, I experienced that difference as loss.
As though I had become disconnected from my former self.
Now I see it differently.
I see it as expansion.
Living between cultures has taught me that there is rarely only one right way to live.
That what feels normal to one person may feel unfamiliar to another.
That there are many ways to build a meaningful life.
Those lessons have become part of my living abroad identity.
The Person You've Become Is Still You
When people talk about authenticity, it is often described as finding your "true self".
But I wonder whether authenticity is less about discovering a fixed version of ourselves
and more about embracing who we have become.
The places we've lived.
The people we've met.
The losses we've experienced.
The challenges we've overcome.
All of these shape us.
All of them become part of our story.
Living abroad can bring moments of grief for earlier versions of ourselves.
That feeling is understandable.
But those changes also tell the story of a life lived courageously.
The risks taken.
The adjustments made.
The times we started again.
The strength we discovered without even realising it.
I am not only the person who grew up in Japan.
Nor am I only the person who built a life in Britain.
I am both.
And perhaps that is its own kind of belonging.
The person I have become is still me.
🌿 A Small Step for You: Free 30-Minute Online Session
Sometimes the things we carry are difficult to explain.
A feeling that something has shifted.
A quiet sense of distance from home.
Questions about identity, belonging, or where we fit in now.
These experiences may not seem serious enough to talk about.
Yet many people living abroad carry these thoughts alone for years.
You don't need to have everything figured out.
You don't need to explain things perfectly.
And it doesn't have to be a serious problem.
Sometimes it is enough to simply have a space where you can reflect out loud
with someone who understands the emotional complexities of life abroad.
This is a pressure-free space.
You are welcome to come simply because you would like someone to talk to.
[🔽 Book your free 30-minute online session here]
If you'd simply like to get a sense of the space first, that's absolutely okay too.
Comments