Why am I this different from other Japanese women? (Reflecting the day of my birthday 🎂)

Hello deer, this is Seri 🌸

Today, on June 1 2025, I turned 26.

I wasn’t sure at first if I wanted to write anything about it. Birthdays often carry a mix of emotions for me. Some years I want to hide, other years I want to celebrate. This year, I want to reflect.

Not in a loud or glittery way, but in a quiet, honest way. Because growing older, for someone like me—a soft soul in a hard world—feels like both a triumph and a tenderness.

I wanted to write about the things I carry into this new year of my life. Not just memories or wishes, but the pieces of myself I’ve gathered, the ones that make me who I am today.

🌿 Becoming Myself, Against the Current

I come from a country, Japan, where conformity is deeply woven into the social fabric. Where silence is often safer than honesty, and fitting in is valued more than standing out. And for a long time, I felt like I was too soft, too different, too dreamy for the world I was born into.

But I didn’t disappear into the mold.

Instead, I asked questions. I listened to my heart. I studied philosophy, social sciences, the way humans build their worlds and beliefs. I traveled, I wandered, and I let the world reshape me, not into something harder, but into someone more aware. I began to value subjectivity over blind obedience. I stopped chasing "shoulds" and started listening to what truly matters to me.

And slowly, I found my voice.

It wasn’t easy. I had to learn to speak louder, to set boundaries, to be firmer, not because I lost my softness, but because I had to protect it. This world is often unkind to gentle people. And I’ve had my share of pain, of being taken advantage of, of being misunderstood.

So I became stronger, not cruel, but clearer.

Not bitter, but braver.

People sometimes tell me I’m not like other Japanese people. That I’m “too” different. For a while, that hurt. But now, I hold that difference with pride. I am a flower that bloomed sideways, wild and free. I am not a betrayal of my culture, I am an expansion of it. I am rooted in where I come from, but I reach toward where I long to go.

💌 What I Carry Into 26

So as I turn 26, here are some of the things I carry in my heart:

🎂 A tender defiance against conformity.

🍰 The belief that being different is not a flaw, it’s a form of honesty.

🎉A voice I fought hard to reclaim.

🎁 A deep sense of empathy, softened by pain and protected by strength.

🌸 The memory of my mother, and the ache of her absence.

💐 The shadow of a twin brother I never met, but still feel beside me.

💗 The quiet love I give to the children I nanny, who remind me of the beauty of gentleness.

🌹 The complex, raw affection I hold for someone far away, who taught me about longing and love.

🌺 The dreams I still carry: of becoming a florist, of living somewhere warm and soft

🌊I also carry the strength to say no.

🌞 The courage to walk away.

🌴 The softness that I refuse to abandon.

🌱 The hope that I am not too much, not too little—just right, exactly as I am.

I want to live a short life, possibly until my 30s 🪴

Lately, I’ve been sitting quietly with a thought that has lived in my heart for a long time. It’s not a sad thought, though it might sound that way at first. It’s actually a calm one like watching the sky turn violet at dusk.

It’s this:

I don’t feel the need to live a very long life.

And maybe—for me—living until 30 would be enough.

Before you worry, please know: I’m not writing this from despair. I’m not in danger, and I’m not trying to disappear. I’m at peace. I simply want to speak this quiet truth aloud, because it matters to me, and because I know there are other soft souls who might feel this too, but are too afraid to say it.

Softness in a Hard World 🗺️

Living has never felt easy.

Not because I don’t love life—there are so many things I do love. I see beauty everywhere. In flowers blooming by surprise, in the kindness of children I care for, in the delicate rituals of my daily life.

But life, especially on this earth, is not built for people like me.

For people who feel deeply, who are sensitive to cruelty, who want to live gently in a world that often demands harshness.

I was born with an autoimmune illness. 🤒

My body fights itself. Some days it’s quiet. Other days it reminds me that it is not something I can fully trust. The idea of aging with this illness of slowly losing parts of myself, of being seen as a broken thing, fills me with sadness.

I don’t want to witness my body fail in ways I can’t hide.

So when I think about choosing the length of my life, I don’t think about dying in fear. I think about living with intention. About being the gentle master of my own story.

Because there is peace in knowing that you choose.

That your ending doesn’t have to be written by pain or passivity.

That it can be something sacred and soft, like the final note of a song played just long enough.

And if one day I choose to say, "This is enough,"

Know it was with grace, not grief.

With love, not loss.

With softness, always.

Maybe I will live beyond 30.

Maybe I’ll fall in love with new dreams. Maybe I’ll see healing I never expected.

I am open to that, too.

But if I don’t, I will have lived meaningfully. Truthfully.

And to me, that is enough.

Please don’t read this as a farewell.

Read it as a love letter to freedom.

To choosing one’s own path, even if it curves gently toward a different kind of horizon.

I am not afraid of death.

I am afraid of losing myself.

And that’s why I want to live while I still feel like me.

If the end comes early, let it come with flowers in my hands, moonlight on my cheeks, and the quiet assurance that I lived as Serina, fully, softly, and on my own terms.

🌷 A Wish, A Soft Hope

Turning 26 doesn’t feel like a celebration with balloons and noise.

It feels like a quiet lake at dusk, like sunlight through gauze curtains.

It feels like survival. Like becoming.

So, to my future self dear girl I’ve yet to become I whisper this:

🌸 May 26 bring me softness where I need rest, strength where I must stand, and love where I once felt lack.

May I keep choosing myself, again and again, without apology.

May I continue to grow, not into someone the world expects but into someone I can truly love.

Thank you for reading, deer.

And thank you to the girl I was, for never giving up.

Happy birthday to me. 🎂

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🌸To my dearest Mama, 🌷

Today, the world will say it’s my birthday,

but in my heart, it’s our day.

Because on that day, you gave me more than life

you gave me your strength, your warmth, your light.

You whispered love into my first breath,

and wrapped my tiny world in safety.

I don’t remember it, but my soul does.

It remembers your heartbeat,

the first lullaby I ever knew.

As I grow, I carry your softness in my voice,

your courage in my quiet steps,

your tenderness in every flower I press between pages.

Thank you for bringing me into this world to be your child.

Thank you for holding me through it.

You are my first home,

and forever, my favorite part of me.

With all the love I can carry in my arms and more,

Serina 🕊️🌸