Some truths behind the ‘sister visit’

Yes, I had been lonely. So much so that I wrote poetry about it: my unshared home, my quiet mornings, even quieter nights etc but at the same time, I’d gotten used to living alone. 8 months of something and you’re bound to adapt right? Except, just how much adaptation I’d made, to me, was unknown. That is, until the love-birds showed up at my door and no, I’m not referring to third-wheeling, although I’ve done a fair bit of that, in Japan alone.

At times, I’ve simply felt irritated at having two more people in my small home. Also, I am exhausted from the continous driving as my home is situated so rural.

Basically, I feel that I owe it to my followers and the internet world to shed some truths behind the sister visit. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been unbelievably amazing, the sights we’ve seen, the foods we’ve eaten and most importantly, the time we’ve spent together. Family is everything but don’t be fooled, life’s not always as peachy as the pictures show.

I wanted to write this post because I know that many people, because of their current circumstances (whether it be being far from home, or financially unable to buy their children an iPhone) are prone to Christmas depression. In addition, I’m sure their unhappiness is exaggerated with the seemingly never-ending Christmas posts on Instagram and Facebook (mine included).

So, I wanted to reiterate that it really is true, life’s what you make it and as the genius words of Miss Lamott,”almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you,”.

So, Day 6 (Christmas) will be spent doing nothing (no shrines, no fancy restaurants, no castles) but being grateful, together at home.

Pictured is Thai curry prepared by a Bahai Persian (that’s me) for a Christian holiday for my Kiwi family in sorta Buddhist Japan.

Unity in diversity, yo!

Curry Christmas errybody xxx


  1. “Yes, I had been lonely. So much so that I wrote poetry about it: my unshared home, my quiet mornings, even quieter nights”
    And sometimes there is no iambic pentameter to it, but it’s still poetry all the same.
    Merry Christmas. You are not alone.
    I look forward to reading your past posts, in the future.

    Liked by 1 person

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