It is often hard for us to ask for what we need.
"Cappuccino with whole milk?” Miko smiles before I even open my mouth. It’s Monday morning, earlier than I usually come. And I feel that small moment of sweetness. That quiet “aww… she knows me.” Miko owns Kyo. She’s Japanese and has this way of connecting with people that feels effortless. And naturally, she seems to know everyone in Bed-Stuy.
I love secretly watching her engage with people. One time, I saw her tell someone sitting alone at a big table to move over so a family with a baby could sit. For a US American, it probably would have been perceived as “rude”. But it clearly wasn’t. It was honest. Human. Loving. Just someone making space for others.
I open my laptop and start working. A few minutes later, Miko sits down next to me, and we start talking. When I first met her almost a year ago, I recognized something immediately.
That quiet kinship n’betweeners® have with each other.
That almost secret language. The one where you don’t need a long explanation. You just… recognize each other
Miko and I share this. We are both immigrants. Both entrepreneurs. Both far from our families. So naturally, I started asking questions. (The kind some people might call “rude”. I call them honest ) But really, they’re just direct. The kind of questions that open people up. “Miko, what was important to you about starting this coffee shop?”
She paused for a moment and said: “You know… I was alone as an immigrant. I wanted to be with people. So I created a place where community could happen.” I was touched. She created the community she needed. And I reflected to her the bravery it takes to do that — especially as an n’betweener®. Many immigrants in New York do this. We build the spaces we wish existed in our lives because there is often a deeper need underneath.
As n’betweeners®, many of us carry a similar one. The need to be understood in our identities. To be witnessed without explanation. To not have to perform coherence in order to belong. To not have to reduce ourselves to be digestible. So instead we stumble upon what we need in a conversation, café, or a person, and suddenly something inside us goes: “Oh… that’s me.” That moment of recognition changes everything.
This is why RISE matters so much. RISE is where n’betweeners® come together. A room where you feel witnessed in your wholeness. A room where your nervous system can finally exhale. Wanting spaces that reflect you is not indulgent. Wanting belonging is not neediness. It is human. And for n’betweeners®, it is foundational. Can you relate?
If asking for what you need feels hard, maybe the invitation is simple: Choose the room that meets that need.
Get your ticket now before it’s too late. Not in New York?
You can also join with a virtual ticket.
Sending you a hug,
Nora