24, Going On 14.

Remember when you were thirteen?

Ouch, am I right?

A 13-year-old Lauren. 

If you’re anything like me, the early adolescent years were probably not your glory days. When a person is 13, awkward is the rule of the day. You speak awkwardly, you dress awkwardly, and if you’re a male, you smell awkwardly (no offense guys, but we all know nothing smells worse than a junior high boy who hasn’t quite realized that deodorant is not actually optionally anymore). When you’re thirteen, your entire outlook on life can change in a matter of minutes: You’re feeling on top of the world, because it’s Friday and you and your friends are going to the movies tonight! Suddenly, in fourth period math, the kid who sits in front of you turns around and looks at you funny. This makes you realize that you were a little too ambitious with your ponytail today, you forgot to put your eyeshadow on this morning, and your sneakers don’t match your earrings. Better not go to the movies after all. Probably should just go home and play a board game with your little brother.

Being thirteen (and the years surrounding) is a time of insecurity, confusion, identity-crisis, ups, downs, and for many of us, unsightly pimples. I look back on my junior high years and try and pretend that my taste in music was never that bad, that I didn’t try and pull off that neck-tie, and that I didn’t get a bloody nose every time we played volleyball in gym class. So. Much. Awkward.

You’re stuck in a world of paradoxes as you begin the long, and somewhat painful process of maneuvering into adulthood.

Now, imagine, about decade later, you finally are starting to get a handle on things. You can talk to other adults without wanting to run away, your bedroom is no longer painted lime green and orange, and you have gotten significantly better at hiding what kind of dorky music you listen to. Your confidence and self-identity are somewhat established, and you don’t want to cry every time you look in the mirror (not that you’re any better looking; you’ve just come to terms with it).

So now you’re, say, 24 years old. What would it be like if, suddenly, the universe plays a cruel joke on you, and you’re thirteen all over again?

“WHAT?! I just spent, like, the last 10 years trying to get over that!!” is what you might be thinking. 

Or at least that’s what I’m thinking.

That’s my life in a nutshell right now. Nice, right?

No, but actually.

I’ve come to realize that my life since being in Japan is in so many ways comparable to my life when I was a young teenager. Minus the braces, plus a husband (poor guy).

First off, it’s awkward. All those social norms and conversational etiquette that I finally, at 24, was feeling I was beginning to get a hold on, are pretty much useless here. I’m back at square one, where talking to adults is scary again. I don’t know what to say, where to put my hands, or where to look. I don’t know how much to smile. Like, if my smile is too big and enthusiastic, is it creepy? If it’s too small and reserved, do I look like a sarcastic snob? When I pass her on the street, do I just keep staring at the ground? Or should I greet her? How do I greet her? What if I’m in a city? Is it different than when I’m in the village? Can I wave? Oh shoot, don’t point Lauren. Pointing is really rude. But indicating towards them with a closed fist, like you just did, looks violent. Wow, way to go. How is that person doing it? With an open palm? ...oh.

On and on and on it goes.

The total disintegration of all the all the work I’ve put into my socialization the past ten years results in the same thing it did when I was thirteen: insecurity.

I don’t know if I should wear my jeans and plaid flannel shirt to that event. I might look too Canadian-redneck. But I don’t want to wear my dress pants and tan blouse either, because then I’ll look like I’m definitely trying too hard to be Japanese. Hey… I’m the only one in this room with my ears pierced. I shouldn’t have put earrings in this morning. However, I should probably run to the store and get some vegetables for supper. But what if that construction worker is standing at that intersection again? Should I bow to him? Should I wait for him to tell me to go? Or, since it is just a stop sign, should I ignore him and stop, and then go? Why is he even there? Is he directing traffic, or is he on his lunch break? He didn’t have a sign. What if I accidently run him over? We’d better just have rice for supper.

Awkwardness, insecurity… what are we missing?

Mood swings.

I personally dislike that term, and will choose to use “tumultuous ups and downs” instead (I just made that up, but I like it, so I’ll run with it).

So, tumultuous ups and downs.

This is the main reason my blog has been silent in the last while (that, and the fact that we didn’t have home internet for about three weeks). I have actually written about three or four different blogs, but couldn’t decide which one would most appropriately convey what I was feeling and thinking in my new context.

I have days where I feel like I could stay here in these gorgeous, mystic mountains forever in our cozy little home. Other days, I feel imprisoned in this isolated wasteland, and just want to take the first flight back to Canada.

I have had days where we’ve discovered beautiful local parks and trails, and stumbled upon apple orchards where we enjoyed fresh apple juice in the crisp autumn air. I’ve visited breathtaking ancient Japanese castles and temples, found a burger joint with 5 different types of tofu burgers, and joined our village pottery class. I’ve met some of the kindest people. I’ve attended super interesting community cultural events. We’ve had a completely random stranger give us a package of cookies (which, to be honest, I would find to be highly suspicious anywhere but Japan). We've found a good church with kind and friendly people. I’ve had someone invite me to get my haircut with them. I’ve been “sledding” on our village’s summer-bobsled track (??). I’ve felt inspired, like there’s so much potential for us here. We’ve had wonderful times, and made exciting new discoveries.

Since living here, I’ve also experienced days where we’ve been lost in the middle of nowhere for two hours, or where we’ve spent almost all day trying to fix our internet, phone or computer (seriously, if someone wants to intercede for us in the area of technology, please feel free. I’m convinced we need divine help at this point). I’ve spent hours, oftentimes days, alone in my house, longing for someone to talk to or be friends with. I’ve been frustrated trying to find groceries that I’ll know how to cook, and I’ve been embarrassed when people hear that I don’t have a job. I’ve been discouraged as my language abilities don’t seem to be getting any better, and I’ve watched as I’ve missed out on important family events. I’ve struggled with questions of surrender and contentment. I’ve even been hissed at by a crazy old guy. It was weird and terrifying. 

I found a tree-frog in the kitchen, and I was enchanted with this magical place.

I found a centipede in my bedroom, and I had a breakdown.

I loved hearing nothing but crickets and frogs at night, and thought that this rural living is paradise.

We lost our internet for the 4^th time, and I had a breakdown.

I realised we have a pottery studio two doors down from us, and I decided that this village is the coolest in the world.

I saw someone walking down the street with their dog, which reminded me of my dog. And guess what. I had a breakdown.

I could go on and on, but I think you get the point. Adolescence, but not.

The truth is, things are stabilizing as I learn more, connect more, and find purpose in the things that I am able to do. I’m becoming less like a barnacle who can only take in what is pushed past it, and more like a little fish that is learning to swim and explore on its own. Most importantly, I’m completely relearning what it means to depend on God, as well as to be truly thankful for the beauty and happiness that he surrounds us with. Slowly but surely, I find myself beginning to move out of the craziness that is being a teenager, and am beginning see the stability of knowing that I’m an adult on the horizon.

I’ll invite ya’ll to my Sweet Sixteen.

Discovering cow statues at a temple. AKA, vegetarian trope shot.