March 3rd is Girl’s Day in Japan. People set up dolls and rice crackers as they pray for girls’ health and happiness.
For my Girl’s Day celebration, my parents and grandparents prepared an elaborate ceremonial display and dressed me in baby kimono. I was loved.
There were many traditions and rituals when I was growing up in Japan. There were many “do”s and “don’t”s as a girl, as a first-born, and as a member of society. Girls were supposed to walk three steps behind their male family members. First-born children took care of their parents. We were to follow rules at all times and not to inconvenience the community. I was expected to shut up and obey.
I was a bit of a rebel. I remember the longing. Longing for independence. Longing for adventures.
After living on my own and doing a little of adventures, however, I realized that I was free to long for them because I had a firm foundation – my family, history, and, therefore, identity. I am fortunate and grateful for that.
I now long for home. I long for laughs, familiarity, comfort, and even arguments.
Longing for something I don’t possess, that’s something I don’t seem to lack.
For The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Longing”