Between Two Worlds

I recently came across a term that perfectly describes what I’ve been feeling, migration grief.

It’s the quiet sadness that comes before a big move. The heaviness that exists even when you’re excited about what’s ahead. I didn’t know there was a name for it until now, but it explains exactly where I am.

The Shift From Visiting to Staying

I’ll be moving to Japan soon.

I’ve been there a few times before, but this time is different.
This time, I’m not just visiting. I’m relocating, settling down, and building a life with my husband in Iwakuni.

And even though that makes me happy, there’s a part of me that feels like I’m leaving half of myself behind.

The Life You Don’t Realize You Built

There are days I feel ready. I get excited about starting fresh, exploring new places, creating a new rhythm.

But there are also quieter moments.

Moments where I look around and realize how much of my life here is built on familiarity.

I know where to go when I feel off.
I know which friend to message when I need to talk.
I know the small routines that make me feel grounded.

It’s not just a place I’m leaving.
It’s a version of my life that already knows me.

Starting From Zero Again

Moving means letting go of that certainty.

In a new place, even the smallest things become unfamiliar.
Simple decisions take more effort.
Comfort doesn’t come automatically.

That’s the part that feels unsettling, not knowing where or who yet.

What Migration Grief Really Is

It’s not just about missing people or places.

It’s the space between two lives.

You’re no longer fully where you are,
but you’re not fully settled into what’s next.

You’re still saying goodbye, while preparing to say hello.

Holding Both

I know this next chapter will be meaningful. Japan has always felt special to me.

But even meaningful change carries weight.

So I’m learning to sit with both:

• the excitement

• the grief

• the uncertainty

• the gratitude

At the same time.

Maybe this feeling isn’t something to fix.

Maybe it’s a sign that I’ve built something worth missing.

And that wherever I go next, I’ll build again.