The Day I Realized I Needed More Than Just a Routine
It started, like many things in life, with a whisper — a quiet restlessness I couldn’t shake off. I was making dinner one evening, stirring miso soup while the rice cooker beeped in the background, when it hit me. This life I had — stable, warm, filled with love — was something I was deeply grateful for. And yet, a small voice inside me kept asking: Is this all there is for me?
As a Japanese housewife living in Tokyo, my days were full. Between my kids’ school schedules, my husband’s unpredictable work hours, and maintaining our household, I had more than enough to keep busy. But somewhere between folding laundry and cleaning bento boxes, I realized something vital was missing — me.
I didn’t want to “escape” domestic life. I just wanted to expand it. I wanted to create, to contribute, and to connect — not just within my home, but with the world outside. That desire slowly became a question:
“What if I could work in a way that fits my life — not the other way around?”
That question led me to Japan’s quietly booming gig economy.
When ‘Side Hustle’ Became a Lifeline
In Japan, the word “副業 (fukugyō)” used to carry a kind of stigma — as if it was something only people in desperate need would pursue. But that’s changing. Since the Japanese government loosened restrictions on multiple jobs in 2018, more people — especially women — have started exploring side hustles as a way to regain financial freedom and personal agency.
For me, it wasn’t about earning a second income out of necessity. It was about reclaiming something I had unintentionally shelved: my individuality. I wanted a project, a challenge — something that had nothing to do with PTA meetings or meal planning.
So I began with a simple step: I opened my laptop.
The Search for a Gig That Fit My Life
At first, I felt overwhelmed. I didn’t have a flashy resume or a recent work history. I hadn’t worked a “real job” since I left my office role before having kids. But I did have something valuable: skills. Years of organizing a household had made me an expert in planning, communication, and digital tools (thanks to all the school scheduling apps!). I also had a deep love for writing and storytelling — something I used every night in the journal I kept secretly.
I started by browsing freelance platforms like Lancers, CrowdWorks, and even international ones like Upwork. I read blogs written by other Japanese women doing voiceover work, copywriting, translation, and even remote admin tasks. Slowly, I started to imagine a world where I didn’t need to leave home to earn — I just needed to log in.
And that shift in mindset was everything.
The Courage to Start Small
My first gig? A ¥3,000 proofreading job for an expat living in Kyoto. I was terrified. What if I messed it up? What if they thought I was unqualified? But I submitted the work, and they were thrilled. That one tiny job gave me a rush I hadn’t felt in years — the thrill of doing something for myself, with my own time and skills.
From there, I began carving out little moments during the day to work — during naptime, after dinner, even in the early morning before the kids woke up. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was mine.
And slowly, I started to redefine what success looked like.
A Shift in Identity
I wasn’t “just” a housewife anymore. I was also a writer, a freelancer, a contributor to our family’s finances, and more importantly, to my own sense of worth.
What began as a whisper turned into a clear voice that said:
“You get to design your life, even if society never gave you that blueprint.”
In the next sections, I’ll share how I structured my time, built my client list, set personal boundaries, and even made peace with the guilt of wanting more. This isn’t just my story — it’s a path I believe many women in Japan (and beyond) can walk.
Because blending passion and purpose isn’t just possible — it’s powerful.
Building a Hustle That Works With My Life, Not Against It
Once I realized this “side hustle” wasn’t just a phase but a real part of my life, I knew I had to approach it with more intention. I didn’t want to burn out trying to “do it all.” I wanted to create a system — something flexible, practical, and emotionally sustainable.
1. Creating a Routine Around Real Life
Forget the “5am hustle culture” mindset. That doesn’t work when you’ve got kids waking up at 6am and a grocery run before lunch. Instead of copying what I saw on YouTube or Instagram, I made a schedule around my reality:
- Early Morning (5:30–6:30am): Light proofreading, replying to client emails. I love the peace of early mornings.
- Midday (Nap or School Time): Focused writing or translation — 1 to 2 hours max.
- Evening (After kids sleep): Research or training — things I can stop and resume easily.
Even just 90 productive minutes a day adds up over time. The key was making peace with “less but consistent” effort. No guilt, no pressure. Just steady steps.
2. Picking Gigs That Felt Meaningful — Not Just Profitable
At first, I took any job I could find. But that quickly led to exhaustion. Some clients were demanding, others paid late, and I found myself dreading certain tasks. That’s when I paused and asked:
“What kind of work actually energizes me?”
For me, it was:
- Writing about life in Japan, from a woman’s perspective
- Translating for multicultural families and small NGOs
- Proofreading creative content like blogs and newsletters
These types of jobs didn’t just pay the bills — they aligned with what I cared about. I wasn’t just earning; I was expressing, helping, connecting. That’s when the hustle became something purposeful.
3. Finding Communities That Felt Like Home
Freelancing can be isolating — especially in Japan, where most mom-friends don’t talk about money or side jobs. So I went online.
- I joined a Facebook group called “Women in Japan Freelancing” — mostly foreigners, but very welcoming.
- I found a Discord server where Japanese and international writers hang out and share job leads.
- I even started my own LINE group for moms experimenting with gig work — we share tools, deadlines, and the occasional vent session about clients.
Surrounding myself with others on a similar path reminded me I wasn’t alone. We lifted each other up — not in competition, but collaboration.
4. Facing Cultural Expectations (and Quietly Breaking Them)
Let’s be honest — Japan still has some deep-rooted beliefs about a woman’s “place.” Even now, when I tell people I work from home, I often get one of these responses:
- “Oh, for pocket money?”
- “That’s nice. Does your husband approve?”
- “You must be so busy already… is that even necessary?”
And here’s the truth: Yes, I am busy. And yes, it’s necessary — for me.
I used to feel guilty for wanting more than housework. I don’t anymore. Why? Because my children see me engaged and excited. They ask me, “How was your project today, Mama?” That’s the kind of role model I want to be — someone who values herself, not just serves others.
5. Small Wins That Made a Big Difference
- I helped a small Kyoto-based guesthouse rewrite their English brochure. They emailed me saying, “We had more foreign bookings this month than ever!”
- I landed a regular client in Singapore who pays me monthly to edit her parenting blog. She says my “Japanese touch” adds something unique.
- I finally opened a small Ko-fi page and received my first donation from a reader in Canada who said, “Thank you for sharing your voice.”
These moments may seem small. But to me, they’re proof that even a housewife with a laptop and a dream can create something real — one gig at a time.
The Mental Roadblocks I Didn’t Expect
By now, I had a rhythm. I had clients. I was making money doing work that felt meaningful. But I didn’t expect the invisible obstacles — the ones inside my own mind — to be harder than the work itself.
This part of my journey wasn’t about apps, schedules, or side income. It was about self-worth. And what happens when you try to rewrite your role in a culture that isn’t quite ready for it.
1. The Guilt That Comes With Wanting More
I didn’t see it coming. The moment I started calling myself a “freelancer,” I thought I’d feel proud. But what snuck in instead was guilt.
- Guilt for using my son’s nap time to write an article instead of folding laundry.
- Guilt for asking my husband to put the kids to bed while I edited a client’s newsletter.
- Guilt for feeling more alive doing creative work than I sometimes did doing housework.
It felt like I was betraying some unspoken rule:
“A good Japanese mother should put her family first — always.”
Even when my family supported me, I struggled to believe that I deserved this time and space to grow. That maybe pursuing a purpose wasn’t selfish — it was human.
So I began rewriting that script. Not by fighting it loudly, but by living differently — quietly, consistently. I made a new kind of Bento: one filled with boundaries, joy, and self-respect.
2. Imposter Syndrome in My Pajamas
I was doing paid work, getting good feedback, and even getting referrals — yet I still caught myself thinking:
“Who do I think I am? I’m just a housewife with a laptop.”
“These people are professionals. I just dabble.”
This voice didn’t care about my accomplishments — it cared about my identity. Because I hadn’t worked in a traditional office for years, I struggled to see myself as “legit.”
But something shifted when one of my clients introduced me as:
“Our go-to writer in Japan. She’s amazing.”
That’s when I realized: They don’t see me as “just” a housewife. Only I do.
Imposter syndrome didn’t go away overnight. But every project I completed — even the tiny ones — became a brick in a new foundation of confidence. I didn’t wait to feel ready. I acted, and then the belief followed.
3. Cultural Pressure: The Invisible Boss
Japanese society doesn’t openly shame women who work — especially from home. But there’s an undercurrent. It flows through side comments, subtle body language, and comparisons.
A few examples that stayed with me:
- At a school event, another mom asked,“Isn’t it hard for your kids when you work so much?”
(Translation: “Aren’t you neglecting your duties?”) - My mother-in-law, after hearing I’d gotten paid for a translation gig, replied,“Oh, so you’re chasing dreams now?” with a raised eyebrow.
These weren’t attacks. But they reminded me how tightly identity is policed here — especially for women past their 30s.
But I’ve learned to respond without defensiveness. I smile and say:
“Yes. And it’s making me a better mother and a better person.”
That’s not something I could say confidently when I started. But now? It’s true.
4. Burnout in a Beautiful Wrapper
Ironically, freelancing gave me freedom — but I almost used that freedom to burn myself out. I wanted to prove I was “worth it,” so I said yes to everything:
- A client wanted a weekend delivery? Sure!
- Someone wanted a late Zoom call? Why not?
- I stayed up past midnight working, then woke up early to make breakfast for the kids.
It wasn’t long before I was snapping at my family, dropping deadlines, and losing the joy I had started with.
That’s when I realized:
Freedom without boundaries is just a different kind of trap.
So I created rules:
- No work after 10pm.
- One “off” day per week — completely screen-free.
- Every three months, I say “no” to at least one client or job that doesn’t align with my values.
That saved not just my work — but my mental health.
5. Learning to Say “I Am” Instead of “I Just…”
For a long time, I would say things like:
- “I just do some freelance work.”
- “I just help people with writing.”
- “I’m just trying something small.”
It was a defense mechanism — a way to avoid judgment, minimize expectations, and stay safe. But it also minimized me.
Now, when someone asks what I do, I say:
“I’m a freelance writer and translator. I help people communicate across cultures.”
I don’t qualify it. I own it.
And every time I say it, I remind myself: You’ve earned this title — not with a degree or a fancy office, but with courage and consistency.
Redefining Success from My Kitchen Table
When I first started this journey, I thought I was just testing the waters. I told myself,
“It’s just a small gig.”
“It’s just for extra money.”
“It’s just a side thing.”
But somewhere along the way, it became something much more — a quiet revolution in my own life. A reminder that success doesn’t have to come with a job title, a corner office, or a corporate badge.
Sometimes, it comes with a laptop, a cup of tea, and a purpose.
1. The Impact on Our Family Life
You might think that taking on freelance work would add stress to our already busy household. And at first, it did. There were days when dinner was late, or when I had to say, “Sorry, I’m working” while my daughter asked me to play.
But over time, something shifted — not just in me, but in them.
- My children began to understand that Mama has dreams, too.
- My husband started asking about my projects — not out of duty, but genuine curiosity.
- We began sharing more responsibility at home. He now cooks dinner once a week (his curry is a hit!), and the kids help fold laundry when I’m on deadline.
This wasn’t a loss of balance. It was the beginning of shared growth.
I used to believe that the best way to serve my family was to give them everything. Now I see that the best way is to show them what it looks like to pursue something with heart.
2. Financially Modest, Emotionally Rich
Let me be honest: I didn’t become rich.
Some months I earn ¥30,000. Others, ¥80,000. A few times, I passed the ¥100,000 mark — which felt like a personal jackpot. But that money is more than numbers. It’s mine. I use it to:
- Buy my daughter that art class I couldn’t justify before.
- Surprise my husband with a weekend trip to Hakone.
- Treat myself to a nice notebook and good coffee — without guilt.
More importantly, it gave me a psychological cushion. A sense that if something unexpected happens — a medical bill, a job loss — I have options.
I’m not just a dependent. I’m a contributor.
3. Building a Portfolio, Not Just a Paycheck
Along the way, I began saving my best work — newsletters, translations, blog entries. I built a simple online portfolio using Notion and shared it with clients. One of them said,
“Wow, I didn’t realize you had such range.”
That one comment boosted my confidence more than any paycheck.
I’ve since been invited to:
- Contribute guest posts to a bilingual parenting magazine
- Translate personal essays for a Tokyo-based artist
- Mentor another mom trying to start freelance proofreading
I didn’t expect to build a career out of this. But that’s exactly what’s slowly forming — one meaningful connection at a time.
4. Shifting My Definition of Success
I used to measure success by outside standards:
- A full-time job
- A stable salary
- Approval from society
Now, I measure it by questions like:
- Did I use my voice today?
- Did I grow, even just a little?
- Did my work reflect my values?
By those measures, I’ve never been more successful.
No one gave me a promotion. But I promoted myself — from someone who “just” did side gigs to someone living with passion, purpose, and impact.
5. My Message to You, If You’re Considering Your Own ‘Side Hustle’
If you’re reading this and wondering whether you could do it, here’s what I’d say:
- Start small. One gig is enough.
- Don’t wait to feel confident. Act first — confidence follows.
- You’re not selfish for wanting more.
- You don’t need permission to grow.
- Your kitchen table can be your office, your classroom, and your launchpad.
The world won’t always understand what you’re doing. That’s okay. You’re not here to fit into someone else’s idea of a woman’s role. You’re here to live fully.
Conclusion: The Bento Box of My New Life
Now, when I look at my days, they remind me of a bento box.
Not perfect. But thoughtfully packed.
- A little freelance writing on the side.
- A generous helping of motherhood.
- A slice of creativity.
- A sprinkle of economic independence.
- And a dash of hope — for myself, and for others like me.
This isn’t just my side hustle story.
It’s my life story — rewritten in my own words, on my own terms.
And if I can do it from a small apartment in Tokyo with two kids and a secondhand laptop, you can do it from wherever you are, too.
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