A coach once told me, “Real character is what you do when you think no one is watching.” I think of this every time I witness quiet prejudice. Children learn less from platitudes than from seeing us act when we confront injustice.
I used to roll my eyes when my dad said, “This is a rare moment. We won’t get many like this.” Now, decades later, I catch myself saying the same thing to my son.
This is a reflection on the quiet shift of watching your child step into independence. It’s about that mix of pride and ache, of letting go without a clear roadmap, and learning how to love from the sidelines.
After three years of moving between Switzerland and the U.S., I’ve learned that fitting in and feeling seen aren’t the same. One place runs on rules and clarity; the other on friendliness and ambiguity. In one, I know the codes by heart. In the other, I’m still decoding what a warm smile or silence might mean. It’s not just about culture—it’s about identity, and the quiet ways acceptance shows up… or doesn’t.
A letter for my son, a visit from my aging parents—two quiet moments that made me feel the weight and beauty of time. This post reflects on shifting roles, the quiet strength of parental love, and the emotional echoes of growing up, growing older, and letting go.
Navigating Identity reflects on a Korean association’s event in Switzerland, where diverse attendees explore their sense of belonging. Through personal observations, the author reflects on how identity is fluid, shaped by culture, experiences, and the journey to find a place where all parts of oneself coexist.
Launching a design business takes more than creativity. It requires a business mindset. After eight years in agencies, I started my own studio and learned some key lessons the hard way. Here’s what I wish I knew earlier.
From university research on sustainable construction to brand design, I’ve learned that both require vision, long-term thinking, and an understanding of how systems connect. My time in Switzerland through the LG Pioneers program deepened my appreciation for sustainability’s future relevance, which continues to shape my design approach today.
Imposter syndrome evolves as designers progress from junior roles to leadership. This article explores how self-doubt shapes creative growth and offers strategies to navigate it with confidence.
A Journey to Litoměřice reflects on my 4,212 hours as a hockey parent, highlighted by my son’s first international tournament in the historic Czech town. Between intense games, local cuisine, and shared moments with fellow parents, it was more than just hockey—it was about showing up, adapting, and embracing the experience.
In 1980s Portugal, Korea was a distant concept—two nations divided yet indistinguishable to outsiders. For an eight-year-old growing up by the Atlantic, that divide felt abstract until a chilling mix-up sent my father into a panic. As he raced home, the boundaries between two Koreas, and two fates, blurred in an instant.
A decade-old promise brought three generations to Kenya. From Nairobi’s chaos to the vast Masai Mara, we immersed ourselves in its beauty, culture, and contrasts. Wildlife humbled us, Maasai traditions inspired us, and modern encroachments left us reflective. Kenya was unforgettable. And at its heart, a promise kept.
Seoul is full of layers—the old and new, the mainstream and the underground, the flashy and the raw. This time, I found myself exploring the hidden gems of the city, guided by my longtime friend W. From old printing districts with faded signs to neon-lit bars tucked away in unassuming buildings, each place revealed a unique story. It felt like a night of treasure hunting—businesses staying hidden, opening only to those who knew. In these layers, I found a deeper connection to the city I call home, no matter how far away I may be.