Between Two Worlds
There are days when I feel like I’m living on the edge of everything. Between being Korean and Australian. Between being an employee and a writer. Between being an independent person and being a member of a family. I wonder if it’s ever possible to lean fully into one identity, or if I’m expected to perform both roles equally well. In trying to give similar energy to both sides, I often find myself tired, even exhausted, and unable to do anything at all.
People often say we can’t just do what we want all the time. Still, I often find myself wishing for a life where I could spend a little more of my time and energy on the things I love. Especially on days when the tasks I have to do are overwhelming and relentless—when they stretch on for weeks—I start to spiral. I feel angry, or low, or sometimes just lost. I wonder, briefly, what all this is for.
What Writing Gives Me
But I try to hold onto the belief that everything is experience. The people I meet, the conversations I have, the passing air and light and scenery—these all become part of my writing, eventually. They live on in the stories I tell.
Still, there are times when the weight of it all becomes too much. And in those moments, I turn to writing. For me, time spent alone chasing something ideal is essential if I want to keep living in reality with any clarity.
I don’t believe in the romantic image of the starving writer who becomes great through sheer hardship. Some people may live that truth, but I’m not one of them. I need a comfortable home. I need to travel with my family, to indulge in small luxuries from time to time. What sustains me is encouragement, kindness, and a basic sense of financial stability.
My creativity doesn’t bloom in desperation. It grows in safety.