Currently listening to: Otherside – Red Hot Chili Peppers
A scarlet starlet and she’s in my bedA candidate for the soulmate bledPush the trigger and pull the threadI gotta take it on the other sideTake it on the other sideTake it on, take it on
Are you patriotic? What does being patriotic mean to you?
…I love America but does America love me?
I’m not a billionaire. I’m not a man. Nor am I Caucasian.
I live between two countries, yet neither fully claims me as their own.
In America, I’m always seen as Korean-American—hyphenated, an identity split in two. No matter how fluent my English is or how deeply ingrained I am in Western culture, there’s always that lingering question: But where are you really from?
In Korea, I’m just as much of an outsider. To Koreans in the motherland, I’m not one of them. My mannerisms, even the subtle differences in how I carry myself—it all gives me away. I may look Korean, but I’m not Korean enough.
It’s a strange, in-between existence. Too Korean for America, too American for Korea.
Some days, I embrace the duality. It’s a privilege, really, to straddle two cultures, to understand and experience the richness of both. Other days, it feels like I belong nowhere—like I’m constantly trying to prove myself to people who will never see me as fully theirs.
And that’s the part that stings the most.
I love being an American, but these days, I can’t help but wonder—what the hell is even happening? I didn’t sign up for Elon Musk to be president, nor did I want his legion of tech bruhs mining our data for God knows what.
What I’ve always loved about the U.S. is that it’s a place—or at least it was—where people could chase their dreams and actually make them happen. I love the variety, the contrast, the sheer melting pot of cultures. There’s something incredible about being able to travel to another state or even just another city and have a completely different experience. Do people realize how different Los Angeles is from San Francisco? Or how California and New York might as well be separate countries in terms of energy, culture, and attitude?
And then, there’s the food—the one thing that truly brings us all together. I love that I can have Polish pierogi one night, Mexican tacos the next, and follow it up with Malaysian, Afghani, or Greek dishes without ever leaving my city. Fuck, I don’t think I’ve tried a cuisine I wouldn’t eat again. That’s part of the beauty of this country—the exposure, the choices, the freedom to experience the world through so many different lenses.
America has been resilient. They’ve made it through the Great Depression, inflation, COVID-19, and 9/11. We’ve faced hardships, yet somehow, we’ve always managed to push forward. I have many family members and friends who are in the armed forces and serve on the police force. To protect and serve. Be all that you can be. Semper Fidelis. Ductus Exemplo. Their sacrifice is a reminder of what this country stands for.
But lately, I find myself wondering what my future here looks like—especially as a double minority.
I’m almost certain that by the time I retire, Social Security will be nothing more than a distant memory. We’re working ourselves to the bone to support the generations ahead of us, only to be left with nothing in return. Raising the retirement age feels like a slap in the face. At this rate, I might not even be able to touch my 401K until I’m well past 80—if there’s anything left. Maybe that’s why I’m embracing the idea of micro-retirement, taking intentional breaks throughout life to travel, explore other passions, and focus on my mental health. Because if I’m expected to work for several more decades, I might as well pace ourselves before I burn out completely.
I try to stay informed without getting sucked into biased news. I just want the facts, no spin, no agenda. No offense, but I don’t need some journalist’s opinion—I’m perfectly capable of forming my own without unnecessary influence.
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