“The grass is always greener on the other side.” Navigating adulthood as an otaku. / Thus Spoke Hijiki Isoflavone

Today’s theme is “navigating adulthood as an otaku.” Lately, I’ve realized that the lives of my fellow otaku friends I’ve known for a long time have begun to look very different from my own. This has got me wondering, “Should I be rethinking my life choices?!” on more than one occasion.

Thanks to the internet, staying in touch with people and forming long-lasting friendships regardless of where we live has never been easier. On the flip side, this also means that we’re able to follow most of the changes in our friends’ lives as they unfold in real-time—even things we wouldn’t know if we only met up once in a while—making it almost impossible not to compare our own lives to theirs. Seriously, though, when on earth did everyone get the hang of this “adulting” thing?!

Without realizing it, my friends have been undergoing major life-changing events, such as getting married, receiving promotions, and switching jobs. It’s especially startling when I see photos of my friends’ children, reminding me how much time has passed.

As for me, the most significant changes I’ve experienced so far are quitting my job and moving, which are hardly as life-altering as the events mentioned above. Whereas other people seem to be living full, busy lives, I can barely remember what I did yesterday, let alone last month. But like they say, the grass is always greener on the other side.

The thing is, the people who I meet often in my daily life, such as at work, school, or in the neighborhood, don’t bother me as much. Even if their lives look somewhat different from mine, it’s easy to accept that we have different circumstances since we’re not part of a common group. In other words, I don’t really care what their lawn looks like.

However, it’s a whole nother story when it comes to people I have shared interests with, even though we rarely meet up in real life. Like, come on. We’re otakus. Of course, we all lead similar lives, right...?!

Obviously, this is a ridiculous notion. Otakus are still a part of society; not everyone has the same day-job-manuscript-sleep-repeat life as me or leaves the office on time in order to catch the night bus to a faraway concert.

To be honest, however, I don’t feel too pressured to “catch up” to my friends. This is despite the fact that I only started living on my own for the first time last year, and my friend who came to my housewarming got married and became a mom while I was busy putting all my energy into otaku activities.

The reason is that since I was a child, I’ve been surrounded by adults with various lifestyles. Some went the traditional route and married and had children; some raised their kids with their friends; some did neither and were preoccupied with their hobbies. Thanks to them, I’m able to feel like my life has meaning even if it’s not changing at the same rate as everyone I know, so loneliness is never an issue.

While I’m sure they weren’t without their internal struggles, their lives have positively influenced how I view myself. If my way of living can serve as an example for someone else, just like theirs did for me, then I feel that I can say it's been a meaningful life.

If you take a moment to think about it, it's strange that we feel anxious or pressured to change if our life isn’t constantly evolving. Is it because we feel like it lacks excitement?

Case in point: our whole family was in an uproar when my brother got married and had a child. In otaku terms, you would have thought from the way they reacted that an anime series that had ended 13 years ago and hadn’t so much as released a single piece of merchandise since suddenly announced they were opening a pop-up shop and holding an official event. Everyone was beside themselves with excitement, fretting about what gifts to shower their new oshi (i.e., the baby) with, and the first-ever fan event (i.e., the omiyamairi*) only caused their celebrity-like status to skyrocket.

*T/N: Omiyamairi is a traditional Shinto rite of passage in which a newborn is taken to a shrine for the first time approximately one month after birth. The event is to celebrate the baby’s safe delivery and pray for their health and happiness.

Although I felt a little left out of the festivities since I live far away from the rest of the family, I couldn’t help but be impressed by how elated the “fandom” was by this new development.

Essentially, the feeling that my life is stagnating or that I’m “behind” other people is similar to the unease I feel when the fandom I’m into isn’t as full of exciting developments as more prominent or popular fandoms.

I can’t deny that otakus who lead busy lives thanks to all the frequent updates and releases in their fandom have a healthy glow about them. However, otakus should also know that you don’t have to constantly be on the hunt for new and shiny things to live a fruitful life; fandoms where not much happens can be just as meaningful and satisfying.

It’s not unusual for people who’ve been enjoying life in the slow lane for years to suddenly experience fan burnout after joining a larger fandom. In other words, it’s all about knowing what works best for you and going at your own pace.

As of now, I have no plans to get married or have children. Still, that doesn’t mean that my life isn’t evolving.

There are many things I can look forward to as an otaku: I might discover a new series that I’m into, suddenly develop a passion for crocheting and start making my own plushies, or even become a cosplayer.

While my growth may not be as significant as my baby nephew’s, I’m beginning to realize that it’s up to me to make my otaku life as quiet or eventful as possible.

I’d like to believe that, no matter how “stagnant” my life may look to an outsider, I have it in me to make it the most enjoyable otaku life I can possibly lead.