Following Culture Rules... Then Breaking Them

Insights: Real-life lessons from my journey
What Japanese Work Culture Taught Me About Patience (and When to Break the Rules)

When I first started working in Japan, I thought patience was just a virtue—something nice to have but not essential. I quickly learned that in Japanese work culture, patience isn’t just a virtue—it’s a survival skill.

From the meticulous process of getting approvals (that sometimes felt longer than the lifespan of a houseplant) to the deep respect for hierarchy, I found myself in a world where waiting wasn’t seen as wasted time but as part of a well-orchestrated system. Decisions weren’t made hastily, emails weren’t fired off impulsively, and meetings had a rhythm that required endurance rather than speed.

At first, I resisted. Coming from a more fast-paced work culture, I was used to quick decisions, direct feedback, and cutting through red tape when necessary. But in Japan, the system values harmony over haste. The unspoken rule seemed to be: If you push too hard, too fast, you won’t get resistance—you’ll get ignored.

So, I adapted. I learned to breathe through the endless approval chains, to nod along in meetings that had more polite pauses than actual discussions, and to accept that sometimes, efficiency takes a backseat to group cohesion.

But then I learned when to break the rules.

Because while patience is valued, initiative is respected—if done the right way. Once I built trust and demonstrated that I understood the rules, I started finding ways to (gently) challenge them. Instead of demanding change, I would phrase my ideas as suggestions:
✔️ “Would it be helpful if we tried this approach?”
✔️ “I noticed this takes a long time—do you think we could streamline it?”
✔️ “I’ve seen this method work well in other companies, would you be open to testing it?”

To my surprise, people listened. The key wasn’t brute force; it was strategic patience.

Lesson learned? In Japan, patience is power—but knowing when (and how) to challenge the status quo is what sets you apart.

Strategies: Actional tips to develop skills and adapt
The One Resume Mistake That Almost Cost Me My Dream Job

I thought my resume was solid. It had all the right elements: clear formatting, bullet points, relevant experience, and a polite, professional tone. In my mind, it was the perfect balance of detail and efficiency.

Then I submitted it for a job I really wanted.

And I heard nothing.

Days turned into weeks. I checked my inbox obsessively, convinced that maybe my email had been lost in the void. Maybe the hiring manager was just really busy. Maybe Mercury was in retrograde.

But by pure luck, I ended up speaking to someone who had insight into the hiring process. When I casually mentioned my application, they hesitated before saying something that sent my stomach plummeting:

“Oh… yeah, we saw your resume. It was a bit… vague.”

Vague? I had listed everything! Job titles, responsibilities, years of experience. What more could they possibly need?

Apparently, a lot.

The Resume Mistake I Didn’t Even Realize I Was Making

See, I had fallen into one of the most common resume traps: I had listed my experience instead of proving my value. My resume read like a job description, not like the story of a person who had actually done those things well.

For example, I had written:
❌ “Managed client accounts and improved efficiency.”

Okay, but how many client accounts? What does “improved efficiency” even mean? Did I automate a process? Cut down on errors?

Or another line:
❌ “Handled international communication.”

Sounds professional, sure, but what does it really tell the hiring manager? Did I speak to one person via email once a month, or did I lead cross-border negotiations every day?

My resume was full of these almost useful statements. They suggested I had experience, but they didn’t quantify it or make me stand out.

The Fix That Changed Everything

I went back to my resume with fresh eyes and rewrote everything with this formula in mind:

👉 Action + Specifics + Impact

Instead of just describing what I did, I proved it.

❌ “Managed client accounts and improved efficiency.”
✅ “Led 15+ client accounts, implementing a new process automation that cut project completion times by 30%.”

❌ “Handled international communication.”
✅ “Negotiated with overseas stakeholders across three time zones, ensuring seamless coordination and meeting 100% of project deadlines.”

Even for more technical skills, I made sure to add measurable results:

❌ “Responsible for inventory management.”
✅ “Oversaw inventory management for a 500+ product portfolio, reducing stock shortages by 25% through predictive analysis.”

It took me a couple of hours, but by the end, my resume actually said something.

The Outcome? Immediate Results

Armed with my revamped resume, I started applying again.

And this time, things were different.

Within a week, I had an interview. Within a month, I had multiple offers. And that job I originally thought I lost? I ended up getting a better one.

Lesson Learned

Your resume isn’t a list of past job duties—it’s a highlight reel of why you matter. If you’re getting ghosted after applying to jobs, it might not be because you lack experience. It might just be because you’re not showing it in the right way.

So before you hit submit on your next application, ask yourself:

✅ Am I using numbers or specifics to show my impact?
✅ Can someone outside my industry understand what I did?
✅ Does my resume tell a story of success—or just a list of tasks?

A few small tweaks could make all the difference. I know they did for me.

Stories: Humbling, funny, and inspiring anecdotes
Why Living Abroad Made Me Appreciate My Home Country More

Before I moved abroad, I never really thought much about my home country. It was just… home. A place I understood without needing to explain. A place where I knew how things worked, where the little cultural quirks were just part of everyday life.

But then I left. And suddenly, I saw my home country in a way I never had before.

The Absence That Made Me Notice the Small Things

It started with the little things—the conveniences I had taken for granted.

Like ordering food. In my home country, I could modify a meal however I wanted. “Can I get the sauce on the side? Oh, and actually, could I swap out the fries for a salad?” No problem. But in my new country, I quickly learned that menus were not up for debate. Asking for modifications was met with confusion—or worse, a firm “no.”

Then there was customer service. Where I’m from, a friendly chat with the cashier or a barista was just part of the routine. It was casual, effortless. But abroad, I found that some cultures take a more formal, no-nonsense approach. Transactions were efficient, but not warm. I never realized how much I missed those brief, friendly exchanges until they weren’t there.

Even social norms caught me off guard. In my home country, talking to strangers in line or on public transport wasn’t unusual. But abroad, I quickly learned that not every culture is so open. My attempts at small talk were often met with polite nods—or in some cases, total silence.

I had assumed these things were universal. Turns out, they weren’t. And that realization changed how I saw home.

The Flip Side: The Things I Appreciate About My Adopted Country

Of course, it wasn’t all about missing home. There were things about my new country that made me rethink my old habits.

For example, public safety. I had always thought I grew up in a relatively safe area, but living in a country where I could leave my laptop at a café table while getting up to order—without a second thought—was a whole new experience. Forgetting my wallet and actually getting it back, untouched, was something that would have been unthinkable back home.

Then there was public transportation. My home country’s system had always seemed fine to me—until I lived somewhere where trains arrived exactly when they were scheduled, buses were clean and quiet, and a car wasn’t a necessity. I suddenly found myself wishing my hometown had the same level of infrastructure.

And don’t even get me started on food culture. Eating seasonally, taking time for meals, and actually enjoying food instead of rushing through it? I didn’t realize how much I was missing out on until I lived somewhere that truly valued those things.

The Bigger Lesson: Seeing Home with New Eyes

Moving abroad didn’t just teach me about another culture—it helped me see my own country in a completely different way.

I stopped assuming that the way I grew up was the “default” or the “right” way to do things. I became more appreciative of the things my home country did well, while also recognizing areas where it could improve.

And when I do go back home, I notice things I never did before. The friendly cashiers. The casual conversations. The way people hold the door open for each other without a second thought.

I still love living abroad. But now, I also have a newfound appreciation for where I came from.

The Takeaway

Living abroad teaches you more than just a new way of life—it teaches you about your own life. It forces you to step outside of what’s familiar and see it from a new angle.

So if you ever feel like your home country is boring or frustrating, try stepping away for a while. You might be surprised at what you learn when you see it from the outside looking in.

CONCLUSION
What Moving Abroad Really Teaches You

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from working, job-hunting, and building a life abroad, it’s that perspective changes everything.

Patience isn’t just about waiting—it’s about knowing when to adapt and when to push back. A resume isn’t just a list of qualifications—it’s a marketing document that needs to sell you. And home isn’t just a place—it’s a concept that shifts the longer you’re away from it.

Living abroad teaches you how to navigate uncertainty, how to rethink what you thought was “normal,” and how to appreciate the little things—both in your new country and the one you left behind. Some lessons are frustrating, some are eye-opening, and some take years to fully sink in. But they all shape the way you see the world—and yourself.

And maybe that’s the real value of stepping outside your comfort zone. It’s not just about adapting to a new place. It’s about coming back to familiar ones with new eyes.