I want to share another experience that pushed me even further toward my decision to work for myself.

Waiting for the paperwork

In mid-January, I finished my last shift and went on paid leave. My employment officially ended on the last day of January. My separation certificate — the document needed to file for unemployment benefits in Japan — arrived on February 10th. I had been waiting for it before doing anything, assuming I couldn't file without it. I later found out that you can actually begin the process before it arrives. If you're planning to leave a job, I'd strongly recommend researching the steps in advance. There are many helpful videos on YouTube from former Hello Work staff that walk you through everything.

One thing worth knowing: even if you resigned voluntarily, you may be able to explain at Hello Work that your resignation was due to workplace stress or a difficult environment — and this can affect how quickly you receive your benefits. If losing your income would immediately put you in a difficult situation, it's worth looking into before you leave.

Going to Hello Work

My mother, who lives with us, has been certified at Care Level 1 — she has some difficulty getting around, but thankfully no signs of cognitive decline. Even so, I can see her strength fading little by little. Thinking about the possibility that her care needs will increase, I found myself wondering: can I really keep working the way I have been? On top of that, I've been dealing with symptoms I suspect are perimenopause, and I can't ignore the changes in my own energy and health.

I've also felt, since my early forties, that my options in the job market were quietly narrowing. So shortly after filing for unemployment, I requested a consultation at Hello Work. I asked about vocational training programmes — hoping to build skills that would help me find work closer to home, and perhaps even work remotely, just in case.

What happened at the counter

The response was cold. I was told that these programmes were for people planning to be employed by a company, and that someone of my age and background was unlikely to find employment through training anyway — so I'd be better off just looking for a job right away.

What bothered me most was what came next. The counsellor pulled up a job listing on the spot and said: "Would you like to apply for this now?" — with a firmness that felt more like pressure than a suggestion. Even if the pay and conditions looked fine on paper, I'm the one who would have to go there every day. I wanted to check the commute, look at the location properly, think it over. I politely asked to take the printout home, tucked it into my bag, and left.

When I showed it to my husband — who knows the area well — he said: "The access is terrible. It might look close, but getting there would be a nightmare." Sadly, it was not the kind of support I had hoped for.

Finding my resolve

Two experiences. Two women. Two moments that left me feeling dismissed and deflated. First, a supervisor whose words knocked the confidence out of me after years of giving everything I had. Then, a counsellor who seemed to see no future worth supporting in someone like me.

Is it wrong to want to work in a way that suits your life? Is wanting something better really so unreasonable?

My husband and sons had been telling me I didn't have to push myself anymore. And I knew they meant it kindly. But I also knew that none of them went to work every day because they loved it. I couldn't bring myself to be the only one freed from something hard.

These two experiences didn't break me. They lit a fire.

I refuse to be written off. Who decided I couldn't do this?

That fire is still burning. And it's exactly what drives me, every day, to make working from home a reality.