I wish I had offered enough compliments to my loved ones while we were still friends.
I wish I had the wisdom to find joy even in hard times, knowing that too shall pass.
I wish I had taken nothing for granted.
We often assume our fulfillment and happiness will last forever, but nothing is immortal.
That is why time is so special, and why we are filled with regrets: not only for the things we’ve done, but more so for the things we wish we had done.
Let every trivial sorrow melt like morning frost when I step into the warmth of home, and sink into bed alongside my purring companion.
Yet some evenings call for sweeter remedies— the gentle rush of sugar on my tongue, or surrendering to a flickering screen to drift beyond the edges of now.
There are nights when only the familiar cadence of an old friend’s voice can stitch together my frayed heart.
Still, I close each day with whispered prayers— and in that silent communion, I discover at last I have never walked alone.
As a South Korean, I blend in a little too well in North Korea—enough that people might assume I’m one of them, no questions asked.
So there’s a pretty good chance I might never be able to come back.
Also technically, the North and South are still at war, and as far as I know, I’m not even allowed to go there.
Sometimes I think about how lucky I am to have been born in the South. If just one thing had been different, I would’ve lived an entirely different life—and I might not even know what a blog is, sadly.
It is often—if not always—the case that what truly matters to us can also make us feel the most nervous. Whether it’s the uncertainty of a new relationship, the stress of applying for that dream job, or worries about our family’s well-being, these challenges stir our emotions deeply.
Yet, it’s in those moments of vulnerability and uncertainty that we often discover where our heart truly belongs. Maybe it is a blessing in disguise.
I have experienced two major failures on my journey so far.
Failure One: Medical Entrance Exams
Ten years ago, I faced my first major setback-failing the medical entrance exam twice before finally succeeding on my third attempt. After my first and second failures, I felt completely lost. At eighteen, I believed that becoming a doctor was my only option-the one path destined for me. The weight of failure was almost unbearable.
However, during my third attempt, I shifted my focus to what I could control and set aside what I couldn’t. I recognized that I excelled in mathematics but struggled with linguistics, so I honed in on my strengths. I also learned to manage my time independently, even though I wasn’t as adept at handling the intense pressure of a competitive environment. I dedicated an entire year solely to self-improvement.
Most importantly, I found solace in my faith. Even though I was trying for the third time, I felt a sense of calm and trust that everything would work out. I even applied to a backup school, reassuring myself that if I didn’t make it into my dream school, it was all part of a bigger plan. Ultimately, with wholehearted devotion and acceptance of any outcome, I was admitted to the med school I had always dreamed of.
Failure Two: The Online Business Experiment
Two years ago, fresh out of med school, I decided to start a small online business. Driven by a desire to break free from the relentless whirlwind of everyday life, I planned a community website specifically for doctors and medical students. I envisioned a unique space where young and future doctors could connect, share experiences, and collaborate—a platform that would unite a doctor community that felt increasingly isolated in Korea. I even added a medical news section designed as a debate arena, which inspired the website name “DoctorAgora.”
Fueled by passion, I built the website, secured a domain, and even rented a shared office space for a few months. However, I soon learned that generating revenue from a community website is incredibly challenging, especially when targeting a niche group like doctors who often prefer traditional, well-established platforms. It became clear that not only was the model difficult to fund, but building a sizable, active community would likely take years.
In hindsight, I can attribute this failure to several factors: a lack of preparedness, courage, and finance. Yet, the most significant factor was my own arrogance. I mistakenly believed that success in one area could be easily transferred to another after reading a few books. I lacked self-awareness and neglected to make the sacrifices that life demands.
Unlike the first obstacle, there is no twist in this story. I accepted my failure and redirected my focus to my profession. In retrospect, I’m incredibly grateful for the experience—it introduced me to professionals from other fields I would never have met otherwise, and it taught me valuable lessons about online work, digital ecosystems, and social business skills.
Most importantly, I learned that I am not the type of person who thrives on unpredictability and instability. This realization only fueled my passion for my chosen profession more than ever before.
For my future self
At twenty-nine, as I write this, I hope that my future self-at thirty-nine-remembers these lessons well.
I hope she remains someone who values dedication and devotion, and who continues to live life to the fullest.
Considering that social media is all about sharing and emphasizing moments, ideas, or identities—this blog is probably the closest thing I have to it.
But unlike the fast-paced, filtered world of traditional platforms, this space serves a different purpose. Here, I share and reflect—not to impress, but to understand. I use it to explore how others think, to gather insights, and to collect bits of knowledge that spark curiosity or growth.
It also offers something rare: rest. A quiet break for my brain in a world of noise. No endless scrolling. No dopamine traps. Just me, words, and thought.
And because it’s a blog, there’s a different kind of communication involved—more delicate, more thoughtful. It gives me a chance to sharpen how I express myself, something other platforms often overlook.
So while it may not be “social” in the mainstream sense, this blog connects me—both to myself and to others—in ways that feel more meaningful. And maybe that’s the kind of social interaction we need more of.
There are moments in our days that are too precious—yet easily overlooked because they’re common. Only when we pause to notice them, they reveal deep meaning.
Here are five that bring me immense joy:
The first sip of coffee that wakes me at 8 a.m.
Bright afternoon sunlight streaming through the window.
The quiet joy that comes from completing a daily task.
A delicious dinner after a hard day’s work.
A simple “Love you” text from my boyfriend.
As I write this list, I feel so grateful for my simple, yet colorful, daily life. But I also carry soft wishes for the future—hopes that add another layer to this joy.
One day, I’d love to experience:
The start of a new day beside my husband.
Hearing children’s laughter at breakfast.
Coming home fulfilled—reflecting the personal growth of the day.
A delicious dinner shared with my family.
A “Love you, good night” whispered from the people I love most.
The elements are the same—growth and warmth—but in my dream, there are simply more people in it. And that, to me, is the most beautiful evolution of joy.
Quietly working, steadily building the path toward my dream.
In ten years, I envision a life enriched by both personal joys and professional fulfillment.
Personally, I see myself as a loving mother to two wonderful children. I imagine long days filled with laughter, learning, and exploration as we discover the wonders of this amazing world together.
We’ll embark on family adventures – whether it’s a weekend camping trip, a visit to a vibrant city museum, or a quiet afternoon reading under a tree. I dream of a cozy home where our walls are adorned with art and memories, and where every room tells a story of love, growth, and discovery.
A beloved dog will be part of our family too, adding boundless energy and unconditional affection to our daily lives. Of course, finding pet-friendly housing and reliable transportation will be key, ensuring our furry friend is always welcome on our adventures.
Professionally, I see myself thriving as an intensivist at a leading hospital. Every day, I would be on the front lines of critical care, working with a compassionate team dedicated to saving lives. My role would go beyond technical expertise; it would be about providing comfort during life’s most challenging moments. I envision using my skills to ensure that those in their final days experience peace, dignity, and even moments of joy amid the gravity of their situation. I aim to bridge the delicate balance between life and death with empathy and clinical precision, ensuring that every patient and their loved ones feel supported and understood. This calling isn’t just a career – it’s a commitment to making the hardest moments in life as gentle and meaningful as possible.
Though I may plan and set these dreams in motion, only God can guide the way. May He be with us all on this journey.
Every city has something unique to offer, but not all can showcase it well.
I’ve always believed visitors would benefit from an insider’s perspective—one that delivers the authentic beauty of my city. Living in the heart of Seoul, I see many travelers, yet often find them visiting the wrong places. Of course, this is just my opinion, but I believe there are far better experiences than spending an entire day in a shopping mall.
This doesn’t just benefit travelers; it also enriches the lives of locals, whether or not they work in tourism. In our increasingly interconnected world, attracting travelers carries great significance.
Beyond sharing general and personal insights, we need a service that genuinely connects travelers with locals. This could be something professional, like a paid guide service, or a more casual platform—perhaps an app that fosters friendships through travel.
Ultimately, it’s the people who make travel truly special. I hope my country continues to evolve, creating more opportunities for these meaningful connections.
A journey in ink 
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