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- You Know You’ve Adapted When... (A Story of Small but Mighty Changes)
You Know You’ve Adapted When... (A Story of Small but Mighty Changes)

Insights: Real-life lessons from my journey
The One Word That Changed How My Boss Saw Me
Early in my career in Japan, I operated under a simple belief: If I work hard and do my job well, people will notice and respect me for it. Seems logical, right? Except that’s not exactly how it played out.
I was efficient. I met deadlines. I even went out of my way to be proactive. But my boss still seemed distant. Important projects were handed to my Japanese colleagues first, I wasn’t looped into key conversations, and sometimes, I felt like a ghost in my own office. At first, I wondered if it was a cultural barrier, or worse—had I unknowingly committed some kind of unspoken business etiquette crime?
Then, one day, a senior coworker pulled me aside and gave me a piece of advice so simple, I almost laughed.
"Try saying ‘yoroshiku onegaishimasu’ more often.”
Now, if you’ve ever lived in Japan, you know that yoroshiku onegaishimasu is one of those magical, shape-shifting phrases that can mean everything and nothing at the same time. It can translate to “Nice to meet you,” “Looking forward to working with you,” “Please help me,” or even “I humbly entrust this to you.” It’s basically a social lubricant that smooths over interactions and reinforces the idea that work is a team effort.
I’ll be honest—I was skeptical. How could one phrase change my entire workplace dynamic? But at that point, I had nothing to lose, so I decided to give it a shot.
I started slipping it in before meetings: “Yoroshiku onegaishimasu.”
When handing off tasks: “Yoroshiku onegaishimasu.”
Even in emails, where I had previously signed off with the very Western “Best regards” (which, let’s face it, no one in Japan really uses), I switched to yoroshiku onegaishimasu.
And you know what? It worked.
Suddenly, my boss started making eye contact with me in meetings. My colleagues looped me into discussions more often. There was an unspoken shift, as if I had finally cracked the code of workplace belonging.
Looking back, I realized this small change wasn’t just about the words—it was about showing that I understood the unspoken rules of teamwork in Japan. In many Western workplaces, we emphasize independence and individual achievement. In Japan, success is often tied to demonstrating that you’re part of the collective. And yoroshiku onegaishimasu is like a secret handshake that says, I get it—I’m on the team, too.
So, if you ever feel like you’re working hard but not getting recognized in a foreign workplace, take a step back and ask yourself: Are you just doing the job, or are you actively showing that you’re part of the team? Sometimes, the smallest gestures make the biggest impact.

Strategies: Actional tips to develop skills and adapt
How I Accidentally Became a ‘Go-To’ Person at Work
It started with a question.
One afternoon, a coworker stopped by my desk and asked, “Hey, do you know how to format this report the way the manager likes it?”
I did. So I showed them.
The next week, another coworker asked if I could explain something about a client presentation. Then, someone needed help decoding an email filled with vague, indirect Japanese business phrases. Before I knew it, people were swinging by my desk regularly, asking for guidance on things that weren’t technically in my job description.
At first, I worried. Had I accidentally turned into the office IT/help desk? Was I being too available? Would I get stuck in a support role instead of growing in my actual job?
But then something interesting happened.
When big projects came up, my name was suddenly in the mix. I started getting pulled into important meetings—not because I had asked, but because people assumed I had valuable input. My manager started seeking my opinion. I wasn’t just seen as competent anymore—I was seen as someone who mattered.
So, what happened? How did I go from “helpful coworker” to “go-to person” without even trying? Looking back, here’s what I learned:
1. Expertise is Good, but Approachability is Better
A lot of people are skilled, but not everyone is easy to ask for help. The simple act of responding in a way that makes people feel comfortable (instead of making them feel dumb) made a huge difference.
2. You Don’t Have to Know Everything—Just Know Who Does
One of the biggest misconceptions about being a ‘go-to’ person is that you need to have all the answers. You don’t. Half the time, I didn’t. But I usually knew who could help, and connecting people turned out to be just as valuable as having the answers myself.
3. Influence Happens When You Solve Problems, Not When You Seek Status
I never set out to be a key player in the office. But when people associate your name with solutions instead of just a job title, you become someone they want in the room.
In many workplaces (especially in hierarchical cultures like Japan), visibility isn’t about speaking the loudest—it’s about being useful in ways that others notice. And sometimes, the easiest way to build influence isn’t by pushing for recognition, but by quietly becoming indispensable.

Stories: Humbling, funny, and inspiring anecdotes
The ‘Aha’ Moment That Made Me Feel at Home in a Foreign Country
For months, I felt like an outsider.
No matter how much Japanese I studied, how many polite bows I perfected, or how many convenience store cashiers I tried to impress with my sumimasen and arigatou gozaimasu, something always felt… off. I was living here, working here, but I wasn’t really here.
Every interaction felt like a performance. I was hyper-aware of my foreignness, constantly second-guessing whether I was following unspoken rules correctly. I overcompensated in conversations, nodding excessively and throwing in polite phrases like I was trying to hit some kind of cultural fluency quota. I’d even rehearse how to ask for a bag at the convenience store (fukuro wa irimasu ka?—I GOT THIS). But no matter how much I prepared, Japan still felt like a place I was visiting rather than belonging to.
Then, one day, something shifted.
It was during the morning rush hour. If you’ve ever commuted in Japan, you know it’s a sport. A full-contact, no-mercy event where hesitation will get you left behind. I was running late and needed to transfer trains at a major station, which meant weaving through a sea of people moving at Olympic speed.
And that’s when it happened.
Without even thinking, I instinctively raised my hand in front of me—the universal I’m about to maneuver through this crowd, please don’t be alarmed gesture—and started moving forward. Sumimasen. Sumimasen. Gomen nasai. It wasn’t loud or forced, just natural. Fluid. My body somehow knew what to do. No awkward hesitation, no internal debate about whether I was being too intrusive. I was in the flow.
I barely had time to process it in the moment, but later that day, I thought back to it and realized: I wasn’t analyzing, translating, or performing. I was just… existing like everyone else. The same way I had seen countless others seamlessly navigate tight spaces, acknowledging each other with a subtle nod or quick sumimasen, I had done it too—automatically.
That was the moment it all clicked.
It wasn’t about perfect Japanese or memorizing etiquette. It wasn’t about blending in perfectly or getting everything right. Feeling at home in a foreign country sneaks up on you in the smallest ways—the effortless, thoughtless things you do that show you’re no longer thinking about how to live there. You just do.
From that day on, I stopped overanalyzing every interaction. I let go of the pressure to constantly prove I understood Japanese culture. And ironically, that’s when I started understanding it the most.
It turns out, belonging isn’t about forcing yourself to fit in. It’s about moving through the world naturally—and trusting that one day, without even realizing it, you’ll stop feeling like an outsider.
And all it takes is one crowded train station to show you.

CONCLUSION
The Small Shifts That Change Everything
If there’s one thing I’ve learned from working, adapting, and just existing in a foreign country, it’s that the biggest transformations come from the smallest moments.
A single word can change how people see you at work. A small habit can turn you into the person others rely on. And one unconscious gesture—like raising your hand and weaving through a train station crowd—can make you realize you’ve finally crossed the invisible line between outsider and just another person going about their day.
The truth is, we spend so much time trying to consciously adjust to new environments, whether it’s a workplace, a new country, or a completely different culture. But real belonging isn’t about overthinking—it’s about reaching a point where you no longer have to.
So if you ever feel like you’re on the outside looking in, remember: those moments of doubt and awkwardness? They’re just part of the process. One day, you’ll wake up and realize you’re not thinking about how to fit in anymore. You just do.
And when that moment happens, you’ll know—you’ve made it.
