From early childhood, I found myself quietly questioning the world around me.
Why did people remain silent when they disagreed?
Why were individual voices often discouraged, especially in the society I grew up in?
Even as a young girl, I sensed a tension between conformity and authenticity — and I could not ignore it.

I was born in Yokohama’s historic Yamanote district, into a family deeply rooted in education, science, and service.
My father, a graduate of the University of Tokyo, served as Director of the National Research Institute of Scientific Investigation, and was honoured with a national order of merit by His Majesty the Emperor of Japan.
My great-grandmother, an alumna of Jissen Joshi Gakuen, dedicated her life to advancing the education and dignity of women.
My mother was among the original staff of Japan Airlines — a pioneer in internationalism and elegance.
My parents also spent part of their youth in Germany, where Western values and perspectives became part of their worldview.

In many ways, I was blessed with a rich cultural and intellectual heritage.
And yet, despite this foundation, I experienced a quiet but persistent sense of unease.
I could not silence my questions.
I longed to understand what lay beyond expectation — beyond custom — beyond borders.

I knew I had to seek the answers for myself.
So, as a young adult, I left Japan and traveled to Canada — not for escape, but for clarity.

In Canada, I found a society where individual voices were celebrated.
Where dialogue was open, and difference was embraced.
It was there that I felt, perhaps for the first time, that I was truly seen.

That experience changed me.
It taught me that respect isn’t about silence — it’s about listening.
It’s about dignity, even when we disagree.
I began to understand that culture is not just what we do — it’s who we are, how we connect, and how we see one another.

My journey then led me to the United Kingdom.
There, I immersed myself in research and cultural studies,
and for the first time, encountered the world of international protocol and etiquette —
not as decorative formality, but as a living, breathing code of human connection.

Through this, I discovered something extraordinary:

That protocol is not about control.
Etiquette is not about elitism.
They are languages — universal frameworks — that help us honour others without losing ourselves.

In these disciplines, I found the answers I had long been searching for.
How can we bridge cultures?
How can we communicate with respect, across history, language, belief, and identity?
How can we live — truly live — as global citizens, without losing our roots?

The answer, I found, had been waiting in front of me all along —
within the traditions of international protocol and etiquette.

These are not shallow rules of politeness.
They are deep codes of dignity, humility, courage, and grace.
They are what allow human beings, from every culture, to see one another clearly — and to be seen.

And so I returned to Japan.
Not to conform — but to contribute.

In 2017, I founded
The International Protocol and Etiquette Academy of Japan – ICPA,
a place where culture meets compassion, where discipline meets discovery,
and where individuals learn to lead — not by force, but by example.

At ICPA, we do not teach performance.
We teach presence.
We teach awareness, self-respect, and the tools to understand others.
We teach the skills that cannot be memorised, but must be lived:
grace, empathy, and strength.

I believe that true international leadership does not begin with knowledge.
It begins with understanding.
And understanding begins with respect.

Today, I live this mission every day —
helping others find their voice, their confidence, and their path to global connection.

If you are someone who has ever asked,
“How can I become a bridge between cultures?”,
“How can I speak without words, and be heard with respect?”,
“How can I become not just successful, but meaningful in the world?” —
then you already know, as I did,
that the answers are out there.

You just have to be willing to look.

And when you’re ready,
I’ll be here to walk with you.