I’ve seen these posts on Instagram and the comments section are filled with people, especially from India, wanting to study and eventually work in S. Korea because of the false reality that K-pop and K-dramas present to the world.

However, there are sobering comments as well that warn people that’s not what it’s cracked up to be. First off, their degrees obtained in S. Korea will not land them jobs in S. Korea because there are more qualified graduates from among the local population who have gone through the hypercompetitive educational system of the country. Top Korean universities have already filtered their students, whereas foreign students don’t go through the wringer. They accept all foreign students regardless of their GPAs or whatever scoring system they have, since they pay more than locals.

Local corporations, of course, choose the best locals from the top schools so why would they even hire foreigners? The reason why a lot of Koreans study English here in the Philippines is because of the hypercompetitive jobs market back home. Those from more modest background can’t afford to study in Australia, US, and UK so they choose the “English-lite” version–the Philippines–to learn the language for cheap. They need the extra edge of having functional English as a second language (ESL) when applying for jobs back home even though they may not even use it in their jobs and everyday life there. It’s the local employers’ way of filtering candidates, which is quite unfair as that already culls out those who could not afford to go abroad for ESL education. Hiring ESL tutors in Korea is more expensive. Several Koreans have already told me about this. My nephew’s best friend is Korean whose family settled in our hometown. The kid had to leave for a while to serve in the military and is now back to study in UP Diliman.

But I digress.

What I’m saying here is that the social construction of reality these K-dramas and the K-pop culture is like a bait-and-switch for the impressionable younger generation who are now so enamored of the country that when they land in Korea, they end up struggling or disappointed. This is what the Instagram post was about. She probably couldn’t express it well since it seems like English is not even her first language. What others are pointing out in the comments is that she is struggling because her expectation vs reality was very wide. She came unprepared.

Even though I love coming to Japan for the sights and food and I am fan of anime and their movies, I never considered moving there. I know about the realities of living there from friends who have moved there (they have Japanese blood so it was easy for them to migrate). Isolation is my number one fear and even the locals suffer from that. Language skills can easily be overcome but the barrier is still there. Xenophobia is another issue, which is very high among the locals, especially the older generation. I cannot subject my kids to those difficulties just because of naïveté. I’d rather they plant roots here first and let them explore on their own once their prefrontal cortexes are more developed. When they have roots, they will always have somewhere to come back to when things don’t work out versus having none and in the end they feel like they don’t belong anywhere.

I’ve written about social construction of reality when I was in graduate school pursuing media studies. I wanted my thesis to head in that direction but I figured I would graduate sooner if I do something closer to home, which is business journalism and systems theory. I have already seen this romanticization of S. Korea 20 years ago when I was still watching K-movies and K-dramas. I already thought that this was already unhealthy and I may become a victim of bait and switch. For somebody with a master’s degree on media studies, I should know better, right?

Anyway, I feel bad about those who fall for this false reality because they would have a rude awakening that it’s all not romantic being there, that not all Korean men are like the ones they have been watching in those dramas, and that working there is not as easy as they paint it to be.

I saw myself in the mirror before I left for Metro Manila this morning to cover a conference. I didn’t like what I saw.

I saw myself again when I was buying linen pants from Uniqlo that I will take with me to Singapore. I didn’t like myself.

I had let myself go.

The stress of the past couple of months and my fear of having an empty stomach that may trigger too much gastric acid production is now very evident on my physique.

I don’t like it. I don’t want to hate myself but I hate what I’m seeing.

I have to start over again. Start calorie-counting. Start to obsessively walk.

I need discipline again.

I painted again last night, just to relieve myself of anxiety over going back to work after a relaxing two-day holiday. It’s a very loose painting for exercising water control and impressions.

Need to use gouache more boldly by painting a scene from any Studio Ghibli movie.

Was I productive today? Not so much but I was able to do one interview and two potential interviews. My effort and my toll+diesel became worth it because I was able to chat with L during lunch and after work. But we were so busy that we had to part ways 30 mins after we finished work.

I finally am able to get the ultramarine + burnt sienna and ultramarine + yellow ochre combinations. I get now why these combinations are used for buildings in urban sketching.

Following Urban Sketchers on Instagram has given me the confidence to sketch using pen straight on paper. Before I needed to sketch using pencil then overlay it with black ink. I learned that it doesn’t have to be precise and the lines don’t have to be straight. What’s important is I capture the important elements onsite on a particular moment.

I have yet to finish this sketch pad but I already have a stock of these in my art bin. Talk about hoarding. That, however, didn’t stop me from ordering a smaller sketchpad but with 300 gsm paper for gouache painting.

Now I want a fountain pen for urban sketching. 🤦🏻‍♀️ But, but, but…fountain pens are really great for that since you can control the thickness of your lines.

More than a decade ago, I was writing a novel and this song was playing in my head, like the main protagonist was singing this and this served as one of the themes in the entire novel. I had destroyed and forgotten that novel but this song stayed. Another song that kept playing in my head alongside this one was “Gravity” by Sara Bareilles, but that’s for another entry.

I think about this song and I remember how I thought I found the person who saved me from an eternal lonelines—but I was so completely wrong. I didn’t get past the part of the lyrics where Gotye sang, “And I could not love/’Cause I could not love myself/Never good enough, no…”

That was the culprit. That lack of love for myself that always got me into a hot mess. Every time.

So now every time I listen to this song when I drive my car, I think, is there somebody out there who would sing the last stanza of this song for me?

Or maybe I’m supposed to sing Adele, “Next time, I’ll be braver/I’ll be my own savior standing on my own two feet…”

Save Me

In the mornings
I was anxious
It was better just to stay in bed
Didn’t want to fail myself again
Running through all the options
And the endings
Were rolling out in front of me
But I couldn’t choose a thread to begin

And I could not love
‘Cause I could not love myself
Never good enough, no
That was all I’d tell myself
And I was not well
But I could not help myself
I was giving up on living

In the morning
You were leaving
Traveling south again
And you said you were not unprepared
And all the dead ends
And disappointments
Were fading from your memory
Ready for that lonely life to end

And you gave me love
When I could not love myself
And you made me turn
From the way I saw myself
And you’re patient, love
And you help me help myself
And you save me,
You save me,
You save me

i was once a supernova
died
with brilliant burst of light
and then little by little i fell unto myself
collapsed
dust, i still lingered
for far too long
i was once a memory
but faded away
the dark sky swallowed me
until i was no more
i now join the billions of stars
but no longer shining
i am here but not here
i am no longer a memory
i no longer exist
as he wiped me out
to blend into the eternal night

I had chopped off my long hair when I was so heartbroken in December 2020. I kept my hair long for my ex because he liked it that way. Cutting it really short was an act of rebellion on my part, sort of taking back control when I couldn’t have the same kind of agency in other aspects of my life then. I told the hairdresser, “Give me a haircut that would give justice to a girl who was dumped by her partner.” My hairdresser understood the assignment.

For years I kept it short and always went back to that hairdresser because he understood what I was going through.

Last year when we had our professional headshots taken c/o my company, I still kept my hair short. Professional. Intimidating.

I didn’t realize that it has been a year since I had a haircut. I had grown it long again and I haven’t been bothered by it. Maybe because I’m past the survival mode stage. Maybe because I am truly healing, not the contrived healing I had set for myself during the first two years. Last year was hard because I uprooted myself and my kids from the life I’ve known the last 20 years and started over. It was hard because of Twin A’s health crisis.

However, 2023 was cathartic, too. I learned how to be stronger and became really happy with how my life turned out, despite the challenges.

When I reflected on this—my hair and what it meant—I realized I no longer have hate reigning in my heart. I think I no longer hurt. I think I have reached the apathy stage. Maybe I’m at this stage where my urge to throw my shoes at him if I encounter him is no longer that strong.

My regret is that I had those last three agonizing years with me, leaving deep scars on me.

My hair is long again. Does it mean I am trying to be attractive to the opposite sex again? I’m not sure. I’m happy with the way things are.

I’m just happy taking care of myself.