Part 1 : The Version of Me People Are Used To
Lifestyle, Personal Growth
This is my first post in seven years. It’s a story about moving beyond the familiar version of myself and stepping toward a new one.
Why I Couldn’t Write for So Long
I haven't written here in a long time. Not because nothing was happening. Because too much was, and I didn't know yet how any of it ended.
I didn’t write here for a long while. Not because nothing was happening, but because too many things were happening all at once. I was in survival mode. And when you don’t yet know how those stories end, it’s hard to put them into words.
45, and the Start of a New Season
This year I turned 45. For the last 14 years, I’ve been living in full-on mom mode raising two very energetic boys, and only now are they independent enough that I’m starting to have the space to think about myself again.
Back then, my biggest goal was simply “keep them fed, asleep, and uninjured.”
Now I’m in a season of asking, “How do I have deep, meaningful conversations with them so they grow into warm, kind humans?”
Both seasons are hard in different ways, but in this one, I have a little more room to focus on myself than I did before. That’s why I felt inspired to share more of my journey and why I’m writing again now.
First Post in 7 Years, and the Photo I Almost Didn’t Share
Here goes my first post in 7 years. It starts with a photos I almost didn't post.
Not because I don't like it. Because it's very different than the version of me people are used to seeing.
The Titles I’d Been Holding On To
I’m a basketball and lacrosse mom. I’m the one in athletic wear almost every day, filming or cheering from the sidelines while my kids play—and I genuinely love that time. I even joke that “my hobby is watching my kids do their hobby.”
I’m Korean American Women, I grew up in a Christian home, and I’m a follower of Christ.
I’m genuinely proud of all of these titles. And none of them are going anywhere. But there was another problem underneath them.
Along with the titles “mom,” “Korean American Women,” and “Christian,” I created an inner image of what a person with those titles is supposed to look like.
No one ever directly said, “You have to dress like this, act like this.” But to live up to those titles, I ended up putting a kind of frame around myself.
A “mom” should probably look like this.
A “Christian” should probably act like that.
A “Korean American Woman” should probably carry this kind of image.
In mid-July, I did a photoshoot with celebrity photographer David Suh. The experience itself was really, really special. And about a couple of weeks later, I got the photos.
I was nervous even while I was downloading the files, and
the moment I opened them, I just froze.
I couldn’t immediately put a name to what I was feeling. The first thought that ran through my mind was, “I can’t post these.” And the very next question that followed was, “Why?”
What I actually felt was that these photos didn't match the titles.
And then I had a realization that made me think I HAVE to share these.
I run a marketing company. The core of my work is helping other people stand out among their competitors.
I build systems that help people get noticed, get booked, and stay remembered. And honestly, I think I’m pretty good at it. It’s what I get paid to do.
But ironically, when it comes to my own business, I hide behind my titles again. I do everything I can not to stand out, to blend into the crowd.
So I need to give myself some new titles: CEO, Boss Mom, Visionary. I feel this photo embodies these new titles, and it gave me the courage and the push to share it.
After the photoshoot, at dinner, David shared something. It was so good I recorded him. When he first said it, I didn't fully understand what he meant, but it was something I kept coming back to. Then I got the pictures, and it totally sank in. I'll continue in the next post.
💬 Question of the Day: What are the old titles you put on yourself? And among those titles, which ones is it finally okay to put down?
