Shorts
These short pieces are fragments of my life—moments that lingered, questions that never quite left me, memories that shaped more than they explained. In writing them, I try to make sense of the small things that often go unnoticed but speak volumes about identity, longing, and becoming. If you’re curious about the quiet truths we carry, you’ll find them here, in glimpses.
Glass (forthcoming Fall 2025)
A personal reflection on family, culture, and the uneasy beauty of learning to belong. During a month-long summer stay with my in-laws, I find myself teetering between gratitude and discomfort—grappling with my Korean upbringing that prized productivity over leisure, and the unfamiliar rhythms of a family that lives with ease, laughter, and joy. As I try to surrender control and embrace connection, I confront the fragile tension between resentment and love. In the end, a spontaneous plunge into a rain-soaked pool with my son reminds me that the best moments come when we stop resisting and simply dive in.
A Gamble
This is a personal essay about love, legacy, and the unpredictable road to motherhood. I grew up believing I never wanted children—shaped by a mother who resented parenting and a life built on freedom and ambition. But when I fell in love with someone who did want kids, everything I thought I knew started to shift. This piece explores what happens when the life you planned collides with the life you’re suddenly willing to gamble for.
Unspoken
This essay is a personal reckoning with love, legacy, and the emotional gaps between generations. As I care for my dying father—a stoic Korean immigrant hardened by sacrifice and silence—I confront my own inability to say the words I love you. This essay traces the unspoken language of duty and resentment, the cultural weight of obligation, and my longing for a closeness that never came. It’s about what remains unsaid between a father and daughter, and the quiet ways we sometimes show love when words feel impossible.