Southern Girl Meets Tokyo
“The world is wide, and my roots just met my wings.”
Being a Southern girl from Mississippi, I was never encouraged to travel. Passports are seen as an unnecessary luxury, and vacations are spent just a state or two over. From comfort food to comfort shows, we’re a state known for not going outside our normal routine and day-to-day living. I’ve always loved sushi and even thought anime was cool, yet I could not imagine experiencing these things in the birthplace of my favorite culture. Therefore, Japan was never a dream — because it was never seen as possible.
The moment I stepped off the plane, I changed. The lackluster life I was living dissolved within seconds of feeling the humid Japan breeze. All the anxiety I had about traveling calmed inside of me, and I felt understood. I felt seen in a culture that rarely sees people who look like me. I felt as if my entire life had led to this very moment of clarity. The weather was dewy, wet, and plain — yet it shined so warmly inside. I closed my eyes on the bus to the hotel, not out of exhaustion, but to feel everything — to hear the stillness, to smell the city, which smelled like nothing at all.
I assumed it would all be overwhelming. I’m halfway across the world, for Christ’s sake, and had never left my Southern backyard. I’m a tattooed Black American woman who did her social media research, so I was ready for the undesirable stares and cultural judgment. Surprisingly, I fit right in. The compliments on my braids — even with such a heavy language barrier — were kind and curious. It reminded me that beauty translates, even when words don’t.
What I didn’t expect was how quiet everything would be. Even in the city. Even on the train. Japan doesn’t demand your attention the way other cities do. It invites you to observe, to listen, to breathe. And in that stillness, I met myself.
I watched the elderly move as if they were 20 years younger. I saw schoolchildren walking alone with unmatched confidence and responsibility. I tasted the most delicate onigiri from a 7-Eleven and realized I may never be able to look at American gas station snacks the same. Everything had intention — not just in product, but in energy. That’s something I didn’t know I was missing.
This trip isn’t just about seeing Japan. It’s about expanding what I believe is possible for me. I’m no longer just the girl from Mississippi who enjoys sushi and anime. I’m the woman who made it to the source — who listened with her eyes closed on a quiet bus ride through a foreign land — and who finally let her wings catch the wind.
And now that I’ve flown, I can never go back to believing the sky has a limit.
