Seoul Searching: A Situation-ship with Myself

I went to Korea for answers… I came back with clarity and skincare.

I swear your twenties are a limbo where you feel the weight of the world pressing you to navigate and chart the course of the rest of your life.

Like, hang on, two minutes ago, my biggest problems were my A-cups not growing fast enough and the boy I had a very one-sided obsession with not watching my story within the first five minutes.

Suddenly, I’m meant to be a fully functioning adult with a five-year plan, when I was literally just trying to figure out if he liked me back and whether my body was “developing on schedule.”

I worked so hard to get my degree while navigating various personal challenges, so when I finished, I did what any emotionally stable graduate would do: I immediately booked a flight to the other side of the world, starting with Seoul, South Korea.

Of course, I was slightly terrified going to a place I’d never been alone, with nothing but a feeble Duolingo streak and a 10kg bag that was one zip away from combusting at any moment.

My first day didn’t go exactly to plan. ChatGPT had made my journey from the airport to my accommodation sound a lot more straightforward than it inevitably was.

First obstacle: I don’t speak Korean; therefore, Korean signage was about as useful as Google Maps set to “interpretive dance.”

Let’s just say there were tears, questionable hand gestures, and a few very concerned looks from locals who did not sign up to cameo in my breakdown.

When I finally put my big girl pants on and found my way to my accommodation, I took a quick trip to a 7/11 for some ramen and Korean snacks, because there is no issue food cannot solve, or at least soften.

I started the next day fresh, ready to experience culture and trust Google Maps with my life.

That’s when it happened. The moment that altered the entire trajectory of my trip.

I took out my headphones, and Olivia Dean was suddenly drowned out by loud murmuring and the bustling streets of Hongdae.

“Are you British?” a stranger asked me.

One, I was slightly irritated because the song had just reached the chorus. And two, I’d kind of wanted to be perceived as some exotic, mysterious woman abroad… not immediately clocked as a Brummie within 0.2 seconds of existing.

However, this man turned out to be a popular Korean vlogger who, little did I know, had studied tourism and was going to offer to show me around Korea and act as my personal translator.

We went to markets, Lotte World (basically the Disneyland of Korea), Namsan Tower, and so many more places.

To think, if I hadn’t stopped to do his interview…

But I had decided before going travelling that I was going to say yes to every opportunity that came my way, with the small exception of anything that looked like it might result in being kidnapped.

However, in hindsight, this situation could have had that potential. Oh well. I’m alive. That’s what matters.

Anyway… we filmed vlogs together, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could just be my goofy self. Not the curated, “palatable” version of me. Just me.

Comments would flood in on his videos, saying how funny I was and how much energy I had. Which was slightly mind-blowing, as my friends and family back home had known me as the problem child who had the emotional resilience of a paper umbrella in a storm and the social skills of a Sims character left on autonomous mode.

So the fact that people had no preloaded, slightly tarnished preconceptions of me felt so empowering and liberating, and that’s when I realised travelling allowed me to be whoever the hell I wanted to be and, more importantly, gave me the space to figure out who I wanted to be.

So if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life doesn’t come with a neatly planned itinerary, despite my best efforts to treat it like a Ryanair booking page with way too many tabs open.

But maybe that’s the point. Not to have it all figured out, but to keep saying yes anyway, just with the small caveat that if anything looks like it could end up in a true crime documentary, I’m politely declining.

Turns out I didn’t just find new friends in Seoul; I found myself.