How I’m overcoming identity crisis as a return migrant?
What is an identity crisis?
An identity crisis occurs when your sense of “who I am”– and sometimes “where I belong” – feels shaky, confusing, or suddenly no longer fits.
At the end of 2025, I came across the word “identity crisis” on YouTube. It stopped me in my tracks.
“I might have been in this crisis since I came back from Australia…”
I returned to Japan in 2013 after spending nearly eight years immersed in Australian life – far from my family, navigating a different culture, and building a life from scratch. By definition, I am a return migrant. And like many returnees, I struggled to fit back into Japanese society for the first couple of years.
I really enjoyed and loved life in Australia. A massive scale of nature, friendly people, and relaxed rhythm – it was just my dream world. Of course, there were hardships in finding a job, language barriers, and forming relationships at times, but overall, my time in Australia is one of the best life treasures. Somehow, my nature seemed to fit in perfectly with their culture.
I came home with personal reasons, so no regret with my decision. But I admit that, after returning, I always felt like I was grasping at air, unsure of what I was building or where I was heading.
If this sounds familiar, you’re not alone.
In this post, I want to explore – through my experience and reflection, including:
- What does my identity crisis actually look like?
- How have I been dealing with it?
So if you are interested in what the identity crisis is, or struggling finding yourself, please give it a shot and read. And please bear with my long story. This post is a kind of a memorandum for myself.
The Meanings of Identity
First thing first, what is identity?
Identity has two main layers:
Who I am (personal identity)
What I am (categorical/ social identity)
Who I Am (personal identity)
Personal identity refers to your inner sense of self. For instance, your personality,values, and memories, and lived experience. It’s the story you tell yourself who you are – including the roles that feel genuinely you.
For example, part of my personal identity is:
“ I’m someone who values loyalty and kindness.”
What I Am (social identity)
Social identity is much easier to name. It includes nationality, language, culture, community, profession, and skills. Job titles appear in both personal and social identity, but with a difference:
- Social identity asks what you do
- Personal identity asks whether it feels meaningful to you
What Does An Identity Crisis Look Like?
When people hear “identity crisis”, they often imagine something dramatic. Mine wasn’t.
It wasn’t illness.
It wasn’t burnout.
It wasn’t constant stress.
It felt more like:
“The old version of me doesn’t feel true.”
“I don’t know what I want anymore.”
“I’m playing a role, but it doesn’t feel like me.”
It looks like:
- Confusion about values, goals, or priorities
- Feeling fake, empty, or “I don’t recognise myself”
- Constantly changing to match others
- Anxiety or sadness when thinking about the future
- Big “Why am I doing this?” thoughts
My case: From Survival Mode To Disorientation
I dedicated nearly a decade of my life to moving abroad – including prep (money and language) in advance. It was the most significant move in my life. When I moved to Australia, I knew no one, and had very little money. The only thing I had was massive excitement for the new life.
Eventually, I lived in Australia much longer than I planned, but during that time, I was in full-on mode to make a life. I was not allowed to be picky in job searching. Before I left for Australia, I had worked at a Japanese trading company, where I dealt with communicating with sellers overseas. It was a fulfilling job, and I was content.
However, in Australia, since I didn’t speak English as fluently as I do today, it was not easy to find a job in the corporate environment. For the first five months, I randomly dropped off my resume at cafes and jumped into shops without high expectations.
Even after I got a fulltime office job, I felt much ease for no longer needed jobsearching, but simultaneously, needed to adjust myself in a new environment. The thing is that things were sometimes very tough (physically and mentally); I was very happy with the feeling of “Yes, I am living my life!”
After years of operating in this GO-GO survival mode, returning to Japan was harder than I expected. Although it was my home country, the pace, expectations, and work culture felt unfamiliar.
I suddenly felt like I was isolated.
Old friends were in different life stages.
How I see things has changed through life overseas over the last 10 years.
Then the thought crossed my mind:
“Where do I belong?”
“What am I actually accomplishing?”
Importantly, I wasn’t unhappy.
I wasn’t struggling financially.
That’s why it took me so long to recognize that this is an identity crisis.
What Triggers an Identity Crisis
Research shows identity crises often emerge during major change—even positive ones:
- moving countries / culture shock
- career change or burnout
- marriage, parenthood, divorce, breakup
- losing a job, illness, grief
- hitting a milestone age (20s/30s/40s etc.)
- realizing a belief you had doesn’t match your life now
Looking back, my last decade included nearly all of these.I moved from Australia to Japan, my career changed,I married my ex and divorce when I was 40, and met my present husband at 42.
My life, last decade was a full package of identity crisis triggers.
What Identity Crisis really is
At its core, an identity crisis is often your mind saying:
“My current life doesn’t match my current self.”
“My current self is changing, and I need a new map.”
This resonated deeply with me.
After returning to Japan, I became a freelancer, working as a translator, interpreter, and writer. I loved the work, but freelancing shifted how my value measured.
One of the struggles with a freelance job, income is not stable, and it relies on my skill assets and creativity.
My income moved from a visible (salary, office hours) to an invisible (creative output, long-term value).
When I had long contracts, I felt stable.
When I didn’t quiet confusion returned.
That led me to ask a difficult question:
“ Do I see my identity through income? “
Because I do what my heart feels joy and content, but my passion becomes shaky often when I think about income.
Does Money Describe The Part Of My Identity?
Some people might think it’s a silly question, but truth to be told, in many societies, people are often evaluated by financial success– even when we know that shouldn’t be the only measure.
I understand it well, and I don’t see others based on how much gold they gain. However, when I realized, I lost my value and was drowning in confusion.
The insight that helped me the most was this:
“Money doesn’t define identity – it reflects individuality.”
Those two are very different things.
What money is doing psychologically
Through reflections, I would argue that money represents:
- Agency–I can create value on my own terms
- Visibility– What I do exists in the real world
- Translation– Turning effort into something measurable
- Independence– especially after marriage
- Continuity– proof I didn’t shrink after returning to Japan
So when money is missing, my brain isn’t saying “I love money.”, but it’s saying “I need evidence that I exist as a distinct, capable individual.”
This is a very human need. Especially for returning migrants, and people doing invisible work.
What’s Actually Going On: My Case (You can refer to your situation)
Let’s dive into what is actually going on. I break down my analysis in bullet points to make it easier to read.
In Australia:
- I exchanged time→wages
- Effort was visible and immediately rewarded
- Identity= “I work, therefore I earn, therefore I’m competent”
In Japan (and now):
- I’m doing long-term, delayed return work
- Translation, interpreting, blogging=compound work
- Rewards are slow and quiet
It is easy to recognize that Australian-life and Japanese-life are different systems. But the problem is that my brain is still using the Australia scorecard to judge a Japan-life. This mismatch alone creates the feeling:
“ I’m doing things, but they don’t count.”
So, money has become a proxy for self-worth in my case. But, actually, my pain isn’t money itself. To me, money is symbol of:
- proof
- validation
- a visible signal that says “It’s a real”
Rebuilding The Scorecard
Once I realized this, everything shifted. I stopped asking “How much did I earn?” and started asking “Did I act with integrity, agency, and skill?” I created a new scorecard which reflects my current life.
(You can refer to your own situation and adapt this.)
Category 1. Self-Trust Scorecard
These are the bottom of the line. To make these solid, my ambition stays healthy.
Ask once a week:
- Did I keep a promise to myself this week?
- Did I take action even though the outcome wasn’t guaranteed?
- Did I stay consistent when no one was watching?
Interpretation: If I can tick at least two, my self-trust is active, and income is irrelevant at this level.
Category 2. Agency & Autonomy (this replaces “salary” psychologically)
Money used to prove this. Now behavior does.
Track:
- I decided what to work on.
- I chose how to spend my focus time.
- I said no to something misaligned.
- I improved something instead of waiting for perfect conditions.
Interpretation: If I feel ownership over my week, agency is intact.
Category 3. Craft And Competence
This is where my writer/ translator/ thinker identity lives.
Evidence to look for:
- I produced a finished artifact (post, draft, page, outline)
- I improved quality (clarity, structure, voice)
- I leaned or refined one concrete skill
- I noticed my judgement getting sharper
Output matters more than reception here.
Category 4. Symbolic Wins (this replaces early income signals)
These are non-monetary proofs that my work exists in the world.
Examples:
- I published something publicly.
- Someone engaged me meaningfully with my work.
- I completed a milestone.
- I can point to something and say “this didn’t exist before”.
At least one tick can keep motivation alive.
Self-Trust Is the Fuel That Keeps Me Going
Once I have gone through all the process slowly but surely, I feel much lighter and my responsibility and ambition as a writer has become much clearer.
Especially in the situation where you can’t get obvious/ visible feedback or rewards, we all tend to feel like standing on muddy ground. Without self-trust, progress feels fragile.
Now I regularly ask myself:
- Did my work reflect my values (curiosity, honesty, kindness)?
- Did I feel internally “yes” about what I worked on?
- Did I avoid shrinking myself for approval?
When the answers align, slow income is no longer a failure.
What I Want to Share As Conclusion
No matter how devastated or overwhelmed you are, there is always at least one small thing that you can quietly praise for. By collecting these small acknowledgements over time, you may one day notice a sense of abundance growing inside you.
I am still working on this myself, and I can now say that I feel honored to witness my own growth”.
Lastly, identity-crisis are layered and subtle. If your thoughts include self-harm or intense hopelessness, seeking professional support from a therapist or doctor is important. It can overlap with depression or anxiety, but it isn’t automatically a disorder.
I hope this post helps someone, somewhere.
Thank you very much for reading my story♡
