Turn Your Life into a K-Drama

In my twenties, I chased a dream that in the end, all I had to show for it was pieces of shattered goals and a crushed soul. I had failed at what I wanted to do, to be, and the realization of it took me to my lowest point in life. A decade wasted. The weight of it all and the shackles anxiety and depression trapped me in, completely paralyzed me. I shut the door on the world outside and isolated myself within the four walls of my bedroom. Fear, regret, tears and a deep sense of loneliness became my new best friends.

But I found solace in Korean dramas, rediscovering them and falling in love with their heartwarming tales and swoon worthy scenes about the poor girl who catches the eye of a CEO millionaire, the down on their luck characters who rise above their circumstances or the heiress who falls for a North Korean solider. These stories were my escape, bringing me joy when very little else could. A change that didn’t go unnoticed by my family. In fact, when they began to see me laugh again, they decidedly kept their subscriptions to nearly every streaming platform so I could watch these dramas. I’ll never forget the day I asked my sister why she cancelled her HBO when she used it to watch her shows during dinner, and her answer? “Because I had to choose between HBO and Netflix, and I know you use Netflix to watch your Korean dramas.”

Can you say best sister ever?

It was the world of K-dramas and K-pop, a music genre I’d discover along the way, specifically a group called BTS, that gave me back my joy for life and new dreams to chase. In these two worlds I found myself again. It’s the reason I cried reading this book:

Love is in Seoul

This graphic novel, illustrated by the talented artist Paulina Márquez and written by Tania Navarrete (otherwise known as HelloTaniaChan on social media) tells the real-life story of how Tania managed to make all her dreams come true despite the obstacles and circumstances she faced. Who, in the end, turned her life into one of the very K-dramas she grew up watching.

Now, I had known about Tania’s story before she released this book. Anyone who has watched her YouTube videos or follows her on Instagram can somewhat tell you about her journey. I remember when she made the Storytime video about how exactly she got to live in both Korea and Japan, it immediately became my go to video whenever I was feeling particularly down. So, I was beyond excited to finally get my hands on this book, especially after an unsuccessful attempt to find a copy when I visited my mom’s hometown in Mexico last year.

And I really thought I knew her entire story, until I started reading El amor está en Seúl, that goes more in depth about her origin story, giving us details that weren’t mentioned in her Storytime YouTube videos. Or perhaps they were, and I just can’t recall. Don’t quote me on this.

It’s also worth noting that the tones used for the illustration of the book were deliberately picked as pink is Tania’s favorite color while her husband’s (Hayato) is blue and when mixed together, those two colors make purple. Pretty neat, right? Well, so was her decision to incorporate the actual outfits she wore into the story and then sharing the actual photographs on her Instagram for us.

Anyways, El amor está en Seúl, is a book I know I’ll cherish forever and reread again. It’s been days since I finished it and I’m still thinking about it. Why? Because I resonated with Tania, the girl who moved away after high school only to find herself back in her parent’s house, in a dead-end job, in her twenties, and feeling like she had failed at life. Tania, the girl passionate about Asian culture, in love with Korean dramas and who dreamed of going to Korea but finding it seemingly an impossible dream. The girl who, despite her fears, got on that plane to Asia.

And while no two lives are alike, at the core we have all felt disappointment in life or feelings of inadequacy because we find ourselves at an age where we don’t have what society and even those around us like to point out that we should have.

Tania’s story is a reminder that at any point, our lives can change. And interestingly enough, this book came to me at the perfect time. I’d gotten this book before I left on my trip to Europe with my sister but didn’t have a chance to read until I came back. And once I did, it only confirmed to me what I had quickly realized upon returning to the country I had been obsessed with in my twenties.

It was no longer my dream. The spark was gone.

In going back to the place I was sure my destiny rested in, I was able to make peace with the past and look towards the future. To give my one hundred percent to a new dream simmering in me for the past year but that I had been hesitant to pursue or give considerable attention to, unwilling to let go of what had been my first dream for so long.

But really, I was just scared to start over. To make the wrong decision because I wasn’t that fresh out of high school kid with her whole twenties in the horizon anymore, no, once I hit thirty, life started to resemble an hourglass for me, with the sand moving at an alarming pace, inching closer to the end of another decade.

I was terrified to wake up one morning, in my forties, and be in the same place. I knew the first step to making sure that didn’t happen was to make a decision. To take a risk.

El amor está en Seúl inspired me to go after my dreams, or in my case, new ones. To take that risk. Turn my life into a K-drama. And I hope it does the same to you.

It’s never too late to start again.

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