It's the people

I’ve always liked Japan and was deep into their culture in every avenue: food, movies, music, TV, books, even architecture and advertising. It’s undeniable that the way I work has been shaped by their mindset. Still, I never ended up moving to Japan, never got a job there, and for a while, let that connection fade into the past. That all changed with my recent trip.

When people ask about my past, I usually compress my entire time in South Korea into a single sentence and move on. I rarely reveal much about my personal life to anyone except my family, husband, and four or five close friends from college. That’s part of it, but it’s not the real reason I don’t revisit those memories from Korea.

Growing up in Korea was a struggle. I never truly fit in for a variety of reasons, but the main one was simply that I didn’t like the way things were. It never felt like a culture of craftsmanship, or philosophy, or even a society that valued less hierarchy. Everything always felt rushed, like living in a pressure cooker. Nothing seemed truly intentional or grounded in any unique philosophy. I always questioned that and tried to bend the rules or escape the framework that was designed to mold everyone into the same “output” especially at school. That brought friction, constant battles, and left me drained. I never really felt culturally Korean, either. It was like living in a Korean shell with a mix of other cultural personalities inside.

There were brief moments in college when things felt okay, but realistically, I couldn’t see myself staying there, especially now that I’m with my husband. That was the final break. When I left, I was angry. I haven’t been back since, and I’m no longer a citizen. Still, I can’t change the fact that I grew up there. No matter how misaligned I felt with the culture, or how critical I was of society, I was still shaped by it. Since moving away, I’ve kept my distance from Korea and even from Asian culture in general. But that doesn’t erase what’s inside. There’s this odd void… something I want to pretend doesn’t exist, but it’s always there, persistent and unfillable.

That’s why my trip to Japan hit so hard. It wasn’t just about reconnecting with the culture I’ve always loved and been inspired by. It was about facing, in the closest way possible, the culture and society I grew up in. Japan isn’t Korea, but it’s the nearest I’ll ever get. Roaming the streets there, that strange comfort started to fill the void. Not the same, but the closest. I’d avoided anything Asian for so long, but the floodgates opened and I let myself get close again. I probably won’t ever fully heal, or if I do, it’ll take a long time. But at least now I have something to move toward. Maybe that’s why I appreciate Japan so much, aside from all the inspiration and awakenings it’s always given me. Or maybe it’s the people, after all, who keep me from turning bitter. I thought that’s an avenue I should venture into.

… To be continued.