It’s my second year living in Japan—a sentence I never thought I’d make. My first year, 2024, everything was new and exciting. This year, 2025, feels very different.
The first year was about discovering this new environment I suddenly found myself in. The second year, however, has been about discovering who I am within that environment. So what’s it like leaving your home country and living somewhere completely different? And more specifically, what’s it like to live in Japan? After leaving the U.S. more than three years ago, here’s what I’ve learned.
Read on to see:
- How year two has differed from year one
- What it’s really like leaving your country
- And what I’m hoping for next
How Year Two Has Differed From Year One
As I mentioned from the start, the first year was exciting —and all about exploration. We wanted to see, do, and taste everything. Some things we loved—like shabu shabu (Japanese hot pot)—and some things we did not, like natto (fermented soybeans).
Almost as soon as I arrived, I started taking Japanese lessons. Hiragana was easy to pick up (one of the three Japanese writing systems). Katakana and Kanji? Not so much.
That first year was full of unforgettable “firsts.” We experienced our first sakura season (cherry blossom season) and learned about hanami—the Japanese tradition of sitting under sakura trees and enjoying a picnic with friends. We sweated through the relentlessly hot and humid Japanese summer. We also traveled to nearby places like Indonesia, Singapore, and Hong Kong.
The year absolutely flew by, and somewhere along the way, we completely fell in love with our exciting new home.
By the second year we started picking up on the little things. For example, instead of saying goodbye or sayonara, people often say arigatou gozaimasu. I now immediately recognize the unusual, drawn-out call of Ishiyaki-imoooo, signaling that the sweet potato truck—selling the super popular treat of sweet potatoes roasted on hot stones—is nearby.
My Japanese food preferences have also become more refined. I now prefer miso ramen over all other ramens, and I’ve officially decided I’m more of a udon girl than a soba girl. I still haven’t become a fan of red bean paste or natto, but I do occasionally crave a matcha latte.
I also fell in love with Korean skincare. My once simple wash-and-lotion routine has turned into a multi-step system using alternating serums.
Travel continued, too. We explored new places in Japan like Okinawa and Hokkaido, as well as nearby countries such as the Philippines and South Korea.
And best of all, our family grew by four little paws.
We Got a Dog
Getting a dog probably changed things for us more than anything else—and not just because we added a new family member.
I learned that many of my neighbors actually speak English. Even neighbors who don’t speak English now acknowledge or greet me when they see me walking the dog. That small shift made me feel more connected to the community than ever before.
Our dog is a super rare Japanese breed called a Shikoku Ken, a dog I had wanted for more than ten years and never truly believed I’d get one day. She is perfect: sweet, intelligent, and loyal. She looks like a wolf, but she’s also a total weirdo who sleeps with her eyes open.
What It’s Like When You First Leave vs. Being Gone a While
When I first left the U.S. and moved to Italy, I didn’t feel like myself. I felt like the new kid at school—afraid to do or say the wrong thing, desperately wanting to fit in.
Living in Japan has helped me realize something important: I will never fully fit in here. And once I accepted that, I stopped trying. While I still do my best to respect and follow Japanese culture, I’m no longer afraid to stand out.
One of the hardest parts of living abroad is watching your home country change without you. Unfortunately, since leaving the U.S., my remaining grandparents have passed away. Friends have moved, some have gotten divorced, and my baby nephews are growing faster than weeds.
In your mind, your home country stays frozen in time because when you lived there, change felt slow. But once you leave, everything seems to move so much faster. I don’t know when—or if—I’ll move back, so I’ve started trying to imagine an entirely new life for myself.
One thing I’m actively working on is not complaining. Every expat I’ve ever met complains about their new country. But I’ve realized that when people complain about Americans—even when it’s true— I find myself not wanting to talk to them for very long. It feels like bad-mouthing someone’s family. Sure no family is perfect. We all have that crazy aunt or uncle (I’m the crazy aunt who lives in Japan). But it’s still our family, and we love them because they helped shape who we are.
So instead of complaining about the rigid rules in Japan or the lack of trash cans in Tokyo, I’m trying to be as indifferent as possible to the things I don’t agree with—except for people who hate dogs. They’re just weird!
Goals for 2026
Get to Know Tokyo Better
I’ve already said that year one was the exploration year, but I want to keep exploring and learning even more in year three. Last year, I started a TikTok video series where I explore different Tokyo neighborhoods, and I want to continue it.
For each neighborhood, I learn a bit about its history and what it’s famous for, then I go and visit. And since Tokyo is known for its incredible food scene, it’s time I stop going to the same handful of restaurants and start trying new ones.
Improve My Japanese
Learning Japanese feels like playing chess with a chess master—while I can barely manage checkers. For me, the key is consistency.
Trying to memorize all the grammar and vocabulary at once isn’t sustainable. Instead, I aim to do small things: watching one short YouTube video (I love Waku Waku Japanese), completing a couple of Duolingo lessons each day, or reviewing just one page from my Genki Japanese textbook.
I try not to focus on how overwhelming the process feels and instead set small, daily goals. My motto is something is better than nothing. Some days I study a lot, and other days it might only be a few minutes—but the important thing is not giving up.
Compared to living in Italy, where I picked up the language with very little effort, Japanese is not easy. This time, effort is absolutely required.
2026 Here we go…
Leaving your home country means realizing that the place you miss no longer exists in the same way—and neither do you. I’m learning to make peace with that and create meaning where I am now. As I move into year three, I’m choosing curiosity over comparison, consistency over perfection, and gratitude over complaint. Japan may never feel like home in the traditional sense—but it has become my home.
To follow our other travel adventures or life in Japan, checkout these other articles:
Things I miss about Italy and what I don’t miss