To My 15-Year-Old Self

Congratulations on graduating middle school.

Compulsory education is finally over. Thank you for all your hard work on your high school entrance exams. Even though it wasn't your first choice, you passed the public high school exam, and I think you're feeling relieved that you could put your parents' minds at ease.

Today, I'm writing this because I want to acknowledge your efforts. You did well. Truly, you worked so hard. It wasn't just the exams; you went through a lot of difficult things, didn't you? I'm sure there were many days when you thought you didn't want to go to school. I tried saying that like it was someone else's business, but there were days you didn't want to go to school, weren't there?

There were days you stayed home because you suddenly had a stomachache, and days you went to school crying after being scolded by your mother and leaving the house reluctantly.

It started in the spring of fifth grade.

You moved from Tokyo to Fukuoka, and you went to school with a pounding heart, didn't you? I still clearly remember you looking around nervously as you walked along the route to school for the first time. Narrow alleys. Unfamiliar scenery. A city where you didn't know left from right. Your first time transferring schools. You were just so nervous. You entered the classroom hoping to make lots of new friends. A corner classroom. Slightly old-fashioned, dark brown flooring. Large white curtains. Many eyes staring intently at the transfer student. Crisp, clear greetings.

You breathed a sigh of relief that you managed to introduce yourself.
Up until then, it was fine.

You wished for the transfer to go well. I think the start was good. But it didn't go well for long. Things didn't go as you hoped.

When was it? When you were teased for the way you spoke?
By the time you reach fifth grade, close friend groups are already established, and it was hard for you, the transfer student, to make friends. Having just moved from Tokyo, of course you couldn't speak Hakata-ben. When you spoke standard Japanese, you were mocked for saying things like "Cho~ XX jan" (It's super XX). In Fukuoka, it's "Bari, XX yan." Language is difficult. You couldn't change it suddenly, and you were really troubled. That's when you practiced Hakata-ben, right?

When you were in elementary school, your bedtime was 9 o'clock, right?
Everyone else usually stayed up until 10 or 11. But because you went to bed at 9, you couldn't watch any of the popular TV shows everyone else was watching. Even though everyone in class was excited talking about the TV show they saw yesterday, you couldn't join the conversation. You had no choice but to just listen silently to everyone else's stories, didn't you? Your house didn't watch music programs either, so you couldn't keep up with talk about popular music. Before long, that became something you were teased about too.

When you were sitting in the classroom, everyone around you was passing notes. You just looked down, staring at your brown desk. Then, someone's gaze pierced your head. When you turned your face toward the gaze, a classmate was looking at you and giggling. Wondering what was going on, you watched, and you saw them passing a small folded note to another child. The child who received it giggled again. When you realized that the note contained insults about you, you felt frustrated and sad, didn't you? Besides that, your indoor shoes were hidden, and you were excluded. You didn't understand why they did those things, and I think you were sad.

You couldn't tell your mother or your teacher, and you endured it while thinking about it all by yourself. You really did a great job getting through it.

I remember when you finally gathered the courage to ask your mother, "I want to stay up later. There's a TV show I want to watch," and she flatly refused, you were really shocked. You didn't really understand the reason why it was a "no," and honestly, you were annoyed, thinking, "Mom, that's too strict." I understand that feeling well. Because you thought if you had common topics, you could join the group, right? But even that wasn't allowed, and you felt helpless, sad, and frustrated. But actually, you know, the reason you were sleeping at 9 wasn't just because your mother was too strict; there was a proper reason for it.

You might not know this yet, so I want you to keep it a secret between us. When you were one year old, you were in a very dangerous condition. It seems it was tuberculosis. I heard from my mother after I became an adult that you contracted pulmonary tuberculosis at six months old and had a high fever. You had an incredibly high fever, and my mother carried you on her back to the hospital and you were hospitalized for a while after that. It was just really tough.

See? You've seen it, right? The photo of you as a baby in the hospital. That's a photo from when you were hospitalized. When I heard that story, I jokingly said something like, "Oh, so I hovered between life and death and came back to life!" but it seems it wasn't such a simple story, and my mother got seriously angry at me. Because that happened, my mother, worried about your body, was strict with you, wanting you to have early bedtimes and early risings until you grew up healthy and strong. Even if you heard that now, you'd probably laugh and say, "I'm healthy, I'm fine. You worry too much." Parents are creatures who worry about their children's growth. Eventually, you'll come to understand your mother's feelings.

By the way, I want you to be reassured. I am still healthy today. The person writing this letter is actually 44 years old, but I haven't had any major illnesses and I'm in good health, able to enjoy the alcohol I love. Truly, I am grateful to my parents. You have to show filial piety while you can. I want them to stay healthy forever.

After I became an adult, when I told my mother, "Actually, I was bullied in elementary school," she said, "I wish you had talked to me about it." Oh, I see, I thought. She had a sad look on her face. But back then, I didn't know what to say, and I wanted to handle it myself. I didn't want to make my mother sad. But now, I've come to think that talking to someone is important. Because there are many things that become difficult if you keep them all to yourself. I think it's a blessing to have people you can rely on. From now on, if something happens, please talk to someone properly. It's okay. Everyone will listen to you. You can talk to them with peace of mind.

In fifth grade, it was like that, and I couldn't join conversations or fit into a group, but in sixth grade, you made real friends, didn't you? I felt relieved that I wasn't the only one who couldn't fit into a group.

Thinking about it now, middle school might have been like that too. I wonder what it is; we're not good at acting in groups, are we? But actually, even now that I'm an adult, it's still the same.

Maybe I'm not good at being considerate. Maybe I'm selfish. Even though I'm already an adult, that's still a challenge. I'm sorry I can't teach you how to do it well. But as you grow up, the number of people who accept you for who you are will increase, so you don't have to worry so much.

There were a lot of things in middle school, weren't there? I wonder what that strange atmosphere was. The feeling that you had to act as one with the group. If the leader said "right," then it was "right." And aren't there a lot of love stories? Like stories about cool upperclassmen. Nobody was talking about manga, and if the topic was off, you were labeled as someone who couldn't read the room. You like what you like and dislike what you dislike, so you're not good at joining in on topics you have no interest in. That hasn't changed even now, haha. Until my early 20s, my favorite four-character idiom was "rounding off." I think there are plenty of better four-character idioms. For example, wait, I can't think of one right away. Wait a moment while I think. I'll tell you a recommended four-character idiom at the end.

But in junior high, you were able to talk to a lot more people than in elementary school, right? You had club activities and cram school. Of course, there were people who said annoying things, but I think it was a relief to realize that the world isn't just the classroom. Oh, that's right, you used to write in a diary every day in junior high, didn't you? Well, when you grow up, you'll end up writing it on the internet. A diary that everyone reads. Isn't that amazing? The world is vast, and there are all kinds of people. A day will come when you'll be able to think that your worries are actually quite small. Definitely. The world is amazing.

So, that's how I think your upper elementary and junior high school years were—not exactly fun. But you know, after high school, I think it gets pretty fun. When you're a high school student, you'll wear baggy socks, go to concerts, go to karaoke, take photos with instant cameras, and take tons of purikura. Oh, I just remembered! You'll beg your parents to buy you a pager, but when you go to the river with your family, be careful not to keep it in your pocket because you'll drop it in the water. That was such a waste.

I believe that the reason I was able to have a fun life after high school is because you properly attended that school you hated and studied hard. Thank you. By the way, I'm a solid working adult now. Actually, I'm a mother too. Being an adult is good. There are tough times, but I've found life easier since becoming an adult. It's become easier to live. Look forward to it.

This has gotten long, so I'll stop here.

Seriously, congratulations on graduating junior high school. You really did a great job. Right now, it's probably all things you don't want to look back on, and I don't think you can reflect on it yet, but I am truly grateful that you didn't give up on yourself and kept hanging in there. Thank you.

Finally, here are some four-character idioms recommended by me at 44.
Yakiniku set meal, leaving work on time, Happy Hour.
And, 'Smile brings good fortune.' No matter what happens, don't forget to smile.

The cherry blossoms will be blooming here soon.
The reason I was able to choose a life where I can enjoy delicious food with my loved ones under the cherry blossoms in full bloom is because there were days when you gritted your teeth and kept standing. I love you, even though you're clumsy and hate to lose.

Are the cherry blossoms about to bloom there too?
You know, cherry blossoms can sometimes bloom for a thousand years. Even if they fall, they bloom again the next year. Again and again, as long as you keep standing, they will always be there.