to you
Do You Still Believe
Your Decision Was Worth It?
A LETTER I ONCE SENT TO MY SISTER, NOW SHARED WITH YOU
IT CARRIES THE SAME THOUGHTS AND EMOTIONS, PASSED FROM ONE PERSON TO ANOTHER
to you
Do You Still Believe Your Decision Was Worth It?
My Friend, It is already Febuary
and as I realize we are already drifting toward our late thirties, the saying that "time moves at the speed of your age" truly hits home. I still vividly remember those elementary school days when we knew nothing of the world—when just watching fallen leaves roll by would make us burst into laughter.
You know, since leaving behind the stable and predictable happiness in Korea to take a leap, or what I believed was a leap at the time - I don't think my life has ever just flowed in an easy direction. Sometimes I’m even jealous of that clueless childhood confidence; there are days I almost hate my current self for trying to read too much between the lines of life.
I think we often forget that life has "ending credits," and that all these moments are ultimately just the roles we play - assistant director, supporting actor, lead, or even just "Extra #1" - appearing briefly when the credits roll.
During some of my heaviest times, I was so grateful for the warmth you showed me. Because of that, I gained the confidence that even when my ending credits finally roll, it will be a happy ending. The conclusion that a life shared with friends and loved ones who cheer for me unconditionally, without terms or strings attached, is truly a beautiful thing.
My friend, what is it like to build a family and watch your children grow? Life transcends our expectations and exists in a realm beyond our control, yet I sometimes feel a deep sense of awe for those who have achieved that life.
When I returned to Korea late last year, I saw a colleague who worked themselves to the bone with me five years ago to launch a market; they had found a partner, married, and gained a new home - a nest of their own. Staying in that house for a while, my "inner gatekeeper" suddenly whispered to me:
“Look. This is the life you left behind. In the shadow of your choice, this colorful life also exists. Do you still believe your decision was truly worth it?”
The answer is clear;
I know it perfectly.
I’ve never regretted it—not once. I am grateful for the increased depth of my life; I’ve come to understand layers of my existence I never knew, dissected how my deep inner self operates, dug into the roots, and looked at every single cross-section of my inner layers. And yet, even so, question marks about my choice still surface.
But then, You, we only live once, for less than a century - a mere speck of dust compared to the age of the universe and humanity. Given that, what is the true value added by this "knowing"? Would a soul that simply lets things be—someone who moves past the big question marks with a "good is good enough" attitude—actually find greater happiness in this short, fleeting moment?
Look at me, turning so many thoughts into words in just this one letter. I suppose long stretches of solitude turn me into a woman who talks far too much. After writing this, I can't help but laugh at how I carry all these languages inside me every day.
One of the goals I wrote on my vision board this year was to reclaim "friendship" and "familyship," to find my own way to nurture them, and to build the strength to keep going. I’m trying this because expressing these thoughts and feelings through writing feels like my way of doing that, so I hope you don't feel any burden from it.
Love you so much, my friend.
I hope this year we can meet somewhere, gaze at a clear horizon together,
and just talk. Just imagining that moment fills me with happiness already. An old friend creates a "safe zone" where I don’t have to pretend, right? That feeling ultimately becomes the engine for life.
In that sense, My friend, whenever your life feels heavy, or even when it feels peaceful and overflowing with joy—when you want to share something, whether excitedly or sadly - reach out to me anytime. Promise?
By the way, I’m traveling alone in Indonesia right now. I’m on an island, smoking shisha, journaling, working out, and eating healthy. At this very moment, I’m showing off my "Korean spirit" by finishing a steak and a bottle of Pinot Noir by myself at a steakhouse. After I finish this letter, I’m going back to the hotel for a deep sleep. Just the thought of it makes me happy.
I hope this happiness reaches you in Japan through these words.
I miss you, xx
My friend, what is it like to build a family and watch your children grow? Life transcends our expectations and exists in a realm beyond our control, yet I sometimes feel a deep sense of awe for those who have achieved that life.
When I returned to Korea late last year, I saw a colleague who worked themselves to the bone with me five years ago to launch a Korea market; they had found a partner, married, and gained a new home - a nest of their own. Staying in that house for a while, my "inner gatekeeper" suddenly whispered to me:
“Look. This is the life you left behind. In the shadow of your choice, this colorful life also exists. Do you still believe your decision was truly worth it?”
The answer is clear; I know it perfectly.
I’ve never regretted it - not once. I am grateful for the increased depth of my life; I’ve come to understand layers of my existence I never knew, dissected how my deep inner self operates, dug into the roots, and looked at every single cross-section of my inner layers. And yet, even so, question marks about my choice still surface.
But then, we only live once, for less than a century - a mere speck of dust compared to the age of the universe and humanity. Given that, what is the true value added by this "knowing"? Would a soul that simply lets things be - someone who moves past the big question marks with a "good is good enough" attitude - actually find greater happiness in this short, fleeting moment?
Look at me, turning so many thoughts into words in just this one letter. I suppose long stretches of solitude turn me into a woman who talks far too much. After writing this, I can't help but laugh at how I carry all these languages inside me every day.
One of the goals I wrote on my vision board this year was to reclaim "friendship" and "familyship," to find my own way to nurture them, and to build the strength to keep going. I’m trying this because expressing these thoughts and feelings through writing feels like my way of doing that, so I hope you don't feel any burden from it.
I hope this year we can meet somewhere, gaze at a clear horizon together, and just talk. Just imagining that moment fills me with happiness already. An old friend creates a "safe zone" where I don’t have to pretend, right? That feeling ultimately becomes the engine for life.
In that sense, my friend, whenever your life feels heavy, or even when it feels peaceful and overflowing with joy - when you want to share something, whether excitedly or sadly - reach out to me anytime. Promise?
By the way, I’m traveling alone in Indonesia right now. I’m on an island, smoking shisha, journaling, working out, and eating healthy. At this very moment, I’m showing off my "Korean spirit" by finishing a steak and a bottle of Pinot Noir by myself at a steakhouse. After I finish this letter, I’m going back to the hotel for a deep sleep. Just the thought of it makes me happy.
I hope this happiness reaches you in Japan through these words.
Love you so much,
my friend.
I miss you, xx
You know, since leaving behind the stable and predictable happiness in Korea to take a leap - or what I believed was a leap at the time - I don't think my life has ever just flowed in an easy direction. Sometimes I’m even jealous of that clueless childhood confidence; there are days I almost hate my current self for trying to read too much between the lines of life.
I think we often forget that life has "ending credits," and that all these moments are ultimately just the roles we play: assistant director, supporting actor, lead, or even just "Extra #1"—appearing briefly when the credits roll.
During some of my heaviest times, I was so grateful for the warmth you showed me. Because of that, I gained the confidence that even when my ending credits finally roll, it will be a happy ending. The conclusion that a life shared with friends and loved ones who cheer for me unconditionally, without terms or strings attached, is truly a beautiful thing.
My Friend, It is already Febuary
and as I realize we are already drifting toward our late thirties, the saying that "time moves at the speed of your age" truly hits home. I still vividly remember those elementary school days when we knew nothing of the world - when just watching fallen leaves roll by would make us burst into laughter.
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