“When Are You Moving Back Home?”

That’s a question I get all the time when I go back to the U.S.—especially at social gatherings.

It almost feels like there’s a default assumption that one day, I’ll just press a “home culture” button and return. People are fascinated by the fact that I live overseas, like I’m that “weird aunt” who lives somewhere exotic and tells stories no one can fully relate to—but still enjoy hearing.

And eventually, it always comes down to:
“So… are you planning to come back home?”

It’s a valid question. Whether it’s asked out of curiosity or because people assume no one stays “away” forever, I understand where it comes from. But when I was younger, I dreaded it. Partly because it felt intrusive—but mostly because I didn’t know how to put my feelings into words.

---

For one thing, I never felt fully comfortable living in the U.S.

I was a small person (4’11” / 147 cm) in a place that felt overwhelmingly big—physically and socially. There was a lot of space, a lot of excess, and a lot of volume. I never felt like I was truly heard, especially since I wasn’t as loud or extroverted as the people around me.

My formative adult years didn’t happen in high school or university—they happened in Japan.

That’s where I felt like I actually grew.

Japan gave me opportunities to come into myself in a way I didn’t experience back home. I blossomed here.

At the same time, I learned pretty quickly that Japan will never fully accept me as Japanese—and honestly, I don’t expect it to. I don’t want to become Japanese. But being seen as someone who is culturally aware and knowledgeable about the society I live in—that matters to me.

Still, because I visibly stand out, I often get default English, assumptions, and the occasional awkward question about “where I’m really from.”

---

So when people ask if I’m going to move back “home,” it’s not an easy question to answer.

There’s this underlying pressure to eventually return—as if not doing so leaves you stuck in some kind of cultural in-between. Not fully belonging to your home country anymore, but also never being fully accepted where you are.

A kind of in-between space.

And yet… Japanese culture suits me in a way that feels natural. I’m more patient, more reserved, and I don’t thrive in highly aggressive or confrontational environments. In many ways, my personality aligns more with life here.

So my usual answer is:
“For now, I want to stay in Japan.”

Which, of course, leads to the follow-up:
“So… are you going to live there forever?”

---

And honestly?

I don’t know.

Right now, Japan feels like home. After renewing my visa this year, I want to put down deeper roots—things like long-term financial planning and investing in a future here.

But I’m also open.

If the right opportunity came along in another country—something that felt like the right next step—I wouldn’t shut that door. I think no matter where I go, I’ll always have a connection to Japan.

---

What I do know is this:

That “next place” probably isn’t the U.S.

At least, not long-term.

In my heart, the U.S. feels like the last place I would choose to settle down. Not because I reject it completely, but because I’ve spent so many years seeing it from the outside. And going back fully… doesn’t feel like it fits me anymore.

I would rather adapt to a new culture than re-adapt to one I no longer feel aligned with.

That said, I won’t say never. Life happens. Circumstances change. There are always situations that could bring me back.

But if I had a choice?

I’d choose to build my life somewhere else.

---

What about you?

Have you ever felt caught between cultures while living overseas?
Or felt unsure about where “home” really is anymore?

Let me know in the comments—I’d love to hear your experience.