How I became Bilingual

I am fully Korean. South Korean. But, unlike most Koreans, I can speak two languages very fluently.

How fluently, you may ask. Well, let me tell you something. This is my first year in America as a college student, and I have met so many Americans. Even my roommate is fully American. Well, one of my best friend here at first did not know that I was an international student until I told him that I was fully Korean. He was surprised. Not only that but all of the people that I have met said the same thing to me.

I am not trying to brag here. I am trying to tell you how I became an excellent bilingual.

On my fourth year breathing in this beautiful planet called Earth, I was now speaking Korean fluently. When I wanted something, instead of crying, I would tell my mom what I wanted, why I wanted and that I really, really wanted it. My parents now knew my Korean was good enough to start learning a new language. Some might think, woah at four they start learning a new language? Well, not exactly.

To be frank, at age four, who in the world would get anything? They can’t really teach a four year old, especially a boy. And during that time of the year, Korea was hit with this new education trend of secondary language being essential to later success in life and all of the parents were doing it. My parents were no exception. While all of the parents were pushing their spouses into English playhouse, my parents were a little different.

My mom had hired an English teacher named Mr. Kieth to be my “teacher”. But her was more then a teacher. He was my friend. He would play with me in English and would help me speak English while doing things that I loved. I still believe that this English playtime that I had with Mr.Kieth was the reason why I can speak English at all.

Now fast forward to the year of 2007. I am now 7 years old and I was now attending English Kindergarten. This was the place to be. We would speak English, play with friends, and just play and play. My English skills went up to while being there, but it was not enough.

By the age of 10, I was speaking English at a decent level. I was able to speak to my English speaker fluently (sort-of) and could start understand what The Incredibles were saying without looking at the subtitles. I was getting the hang of English. I thought I was good enough.

But not for my parents it wasn’t.

They thought that I was not perfect enough. They wanted me to become American. They wanted me to speak and act like an American. And one day, they gave me a choice: to either stay in Korea and finish Korean elementary school, or go to Canada and experience the Western education system.

Without hesitation, I chose to go abroad and study. I wanted the taste of Canada. I wanted to live outside my box. I wanted to go there, not to study, but to experience what it was like to live in Canada. And so me, my mom and my brother went to Canada for a year and a half. Little did I know that this choice changed my life for-ever.

I graduated Augustan Traditional School in British Colombia, Canada in the year of 2010. I was sad that I had to leave Canada and my mom took notice. She asked me carefully if I wanted to move back to Korea and go to an international school there. International school is a school where they have American boarding school in a country outside of US. It was expensive, but I thought it was worth it.

Starting from 6th grade, I went up the chain, to seventh, to eighth, to ninth, to tenth, to eleventh and finally to twelfth grade. I graduated twice from the same school (middle and high school are inside the same building). After graduating, now I came here, to USA, for my final education.

Within that eight years of being inside the international school, I improved my English skill to near perfection. I know that I can not beat a native American, but I can get real dang close to them, even though I am not a US citizen. I have worked hard to master the art of bilingual speaking and now I think I have come to my peak. I will continue to get better and better, but it will not be the same as before.

Feeling…nothing….

Few days ago, I started to feel as if something big inside me just got pulled out. It did not feel good at all. That “big thing” went out, and nothing filled that space up. I don’t know what that “big thing” is but it was something huge. Now I feel empty, weak, and hopeless without it.

I thought it was because I did not have a girlfriend, or because I was on a diet and that “big thing” was just a side effect of being alone for too long or being stressed about the diet.

I tried playing games, smoking cigs, eating things that I liked…but nothing seem to work. This “big thing” was bigger than just simple cravings. It was as if asking me to find the thing that I would love or die to do.

But I don’t know what I would love or die to do. I know there are stuff that I would like to do, such as eating or buying useless things on the internet. But these stuff does not solve my “big thing” problem.

Working out seemed to limit my feelings towards the lost of “big thing”. While working out, I would only focus on one thing: lifting weights. I would just keep on lifting weights with my workout buddy until I was out of breathe and could not even lift a finger. But after a good hot shower, that empty feeling would hit me again.

Hating that feeling, I would go out to see my friends. I would laugh with them, play with them, eat with them, swear with them, cry with them….I did everything with them and only during that time would I not even think about the empty feeling I had.

Hmmmm could it be…

I was not sure, but could it be that this empty feeling that I am getting could be because I was homesick?

No!! That can’t be…I am never homesick. I am NEVER homesick…..

Then…what could it be……

Never Ending Journey Ep. 1

I think there are a lot of people like me out there: a person that does not give a crap about anything else but eating. I ate and ate and ate, never stopped eating. Sometimes, I would eat ice-cream for breakfast, chips and soft drinks for lunch, and pizza, burger, and other unhealthy food items for dinner. I would always blame and justify my over-eating and eating unhealthy food on my stress over academic success, however, I was not even stressed out on it. Not even a tiny bit.

During my freshmen yearn in high school, I was about 5’10” and weighed around 200 pounds. I was heavy, and I looked heavy for a freshmen. Also, be in mind that I am Korean, and most people here are skinny. I mean, they are really skinny. Most girls would eat less then 1000 KCal a day to maintain their weight, and most guys would work-out after eating. Always. But I wasn’t like that. I hated going outdoors, I hated working out, I hated everything but sitting in-front of the computer and watching movies, YouTube and playing games.

That weight continued on throughout my high school life. As my grade level went up, my weight also creeped up. Then I hit my max weight during my junior year of high school: 300 pounds. I was 6′ tall and weighed 300 pounds. It was my biggest and my lowest part of my life. I looked pathetic. No clothes made in Korea would fit me. I always had to go to Costco to find extra large t-shirts and pants. I hated going outside because of how pathetic I looked compared to other more leaner, more cooler, more better, more handsome people. I was ashamed of myself. But I always went back to my good old excuse of academic success.

Now it was January of 2018. All of my college applications were submitted. I was now ready to have fun and relax. But there was one thing that I could not do: go outside and have fun with my friends. I stood out in the crowd of skinny people. I had to do something with my body if I wanted to have fun.

With no more excuse left, I dragged myself to my local gym. I knew some people there, and my coach was my mom’s personal gym coach too. He looked at me and shacked his head, sighing. Then he asked me one thing that changed my life forever.

Can you endure this?

I was not sure what he was talking about but I said yes. As soon as I said yes, he dragged me to the workout area and he started to hammer the crap out of me. I ran, I lifted weights, I ran again, I squatted, I ran again and again and again until my legs shook so much and my arms started to fall off.

As I was about to die, he threw me a bottle of cold water. I could not forget how that cold water felt as it trickled down my throat. I felt jubilated as the cold-ice water trickled down. My coach dragged me to his desk and he started to make me my breakfast, lunch and dinner menus.

Chicken breast and protein shake for breakfast, small portion of rice and assortment and side dishes (no fried or sweet food), and Chicken breast, beef and protein shake for dinner.

I had that exact menu for half a year. There were times where I cheated and ate a slice of pizza or ate a bag of chips or drank some soft drinks, but I would workout like crazy for the next few days. There were times where I was thinking of giving up the whole dieting thing, but the next thing I knew, I was already on the treadmill, running like crazy.

On January of 2018, I was almost 300 pounds. On August of 2018, I was 200 pounds. Over the span of six months, I have lost 100 pounds and gained 30 pounds of muscle. I was the ultimate winner of diet.

Many people would ask me how I did it. I always tell them the same thing: All I wanted was to look as nice as others, wear the same clothes as others and enjoy life to the fullest as others can. I now don’t need to go to Costco or Big and Tall stores to buy clothes. I could buy clothes anywhere in the world and I know that all of them would fit me. That feeling, you can not find it anywhere else in the world.

D-Day: My University Life Starts

It all started when I found myself looking at the acceptance email that I have received just after I woke up from a twelve hour sleep. Most people get so excited when they see this acceptance letter, but for me, I was still half asleep when I saw my acceptance letter to RPI. I dragged myself off of the chair and walked out of my room to announce to my family that I was accepted to RPI. Like most Asian parents, my mom screamed with joy when she heard the news, and my dad started to call everyone that he knew, telling everyone that his son was accepted to one of the most prestigious school in US. I, of course, was happy, but for some reason, I did not scream nor did I bounce up and down with joy.

I felt…..empty.

Fast forward few months, I was standing in front of my university freshmen dorm, with my mom next to me. She was more excited than I was. Yes, I was excited, but not that much.

For years all I wanted to do was to live by myself, far away from my parents. Now it was happening. I was living 3000 miles apart from my family, alone. I never realized how depressing it was, moving from a country where I was the majority to a country where I am the minority. I felt pressured. I felt weak for the first time in my life. For the first time in my life, I was feeling depressed.

Depressed might not cover all of the emotions I felt during my first week of living here in the states. It was the first time in my life where I started to feel emotions that I have never felt before: despair, depression, sorrow, guilt. I became more reserved then I used to and for the first time in my life, I was happy to hear my mom’s voice over the phone. For the first time in my life, I talked to my mom over the phone for over ten minutes. For the first time in my life, I felt safe. For the first time in my life, I was smiling while talking on the phone with my mom.

Being alone might not be that bad after all….