Epiphany: A quest for love

Fortune favors the bold

MIRAE

I come out of the enormous glass building, feeling the mid-June city breeze caressing my face as soon as I step outside.

It makes a few strands of my hair fly in different directions, disturbing my perfectly done ponytail. But it doesn't matter. My hairstyle is the last thing I want to think or care about now. The moment I emerged from this building, I felt like I walked into another world. Everything around me, I seem to watch it with different eyes now.

The air is warm, lovely and the wind sways the tall trees nearby, bringing with it the scent of flowers in bloom mixed with the smell of hot pavement. It's the smell of summer in the city, an unmistaken and unforgettable memory of senses. I inhale deeply and let it fill my lungs. This. This serenity is what I needed all along, a well deserved break from a rough world. To finally be able to breathe.

What I did earlier, it takes guts. And what I am about to do next takes more than this.

I am a journalist. I've been working as one for almost five years and I've wished to become one for way much longer. And twenty minutes ago I quit my job as a reporter, ready to step further.

I like to think that at the age of 29 I achieved more than others in this field ever dreamed of. To land a job right after graduation at one of the biggest broadcasting stations in Seoul is kind of a big deal. Maybe it was just luck. Maybe I was so good they couldn't ignore me. Maybe I had a little bit of both. What's certain is that I felt like I had the world at my feet. Not many of my colleagues were able to pass that interview. So I was very proud of myself and excited.

It was alright for a while, I had some good stories to cover, others not so good. But I thought that was because I was still a beginner. I thought that I have to learn a lot and in time, as I would have more experience in the field, the good stories will follow. So I sacrificed time and sleep and relationships for it.

But all my hard work was for nothing, as they soon started asking me to chase around celebrities and cover stories about their dating scandals or shopping sprees and events they are attending. That is not me. I became a journalist because I wanted to report about real things, important matters, to reveal the truth that is kept hidden from ordinary people. I wanted to be their eyes and their voice. I was born to be great, not a pretty face delivering the latest gossip. And the worst thing is that I knew the reasons why this happened. And it made me angry and frustrated. Investigative journalism is all about important subjects of interest like serious crimes, corporate wrongdoings and corruption. It takes brains and courage to be devoted to it, yet it is the dream of every young journalist out there. It's rewarding and self-satisfactory. But as beautiful as it is, the investigative reporters are fewer and fewer. This branch of journalism is very expensive and time-consuming. An investigation can take months for only one reportage and slowly, the media companies are letting go of it, redirecting their skills towards fields that sell. Like the entertainment industry, which in South Korea is in bloom these days. However, there are far worse reasons why this form of journalism is disappearing in my country. An investigation can harm reputations and reveal wrongdoings of very influential men. Some of them are sponsors of the media companies and a bruised reputation would make a sponsor withdraw his sponsorship. Why anger the rulers of the country when you can pick on those poor celebrities, destroy their life and pretend you didn't just take part in the corruption? Not to mention those times when an investigation would finally be approved and they'd assign a man to do it because they are more capable than women. And you happen to be a woman. I want to scream at the thought. Go in the middle of the street and scream at the unfairness.

One of my superiors from my internship in London, whom I kept in touch with all these years, contacted me not long ago about an opening in the media company she now worked for in New York. She immediately thought of me as she said I was one of her dearest interns. She persuaded me to send her my resume and let her recommend me to her higher ups. I never thought I would have that luck again. The lightning doesn't strike twice in the same spot. Only that it did. The Americans reached me soon after that and the interview went on nicely. But it wasn't until I received the acceptance email a few days ago, that the realization of how big this is finally hit me. What a huge change that is. To move countries, all of a sudden, felt heavy. I studied abroad before but when I was heading there, I knew it was for a limited time. Now this departure...it feels absolute. Real. Thousands of thoughts rush in my head and I wonder why this is so difficult. Why am I so conflicted? In the end is what I wanted all along. I close my eyes for a little while and try to catch those thoughts. I see myself and all the studies that brought me here. Why did I struggle for so long to educate myself if not for this? Maybe it's the people that I know I will leave behind that holds me back. Or maybe something deeper. Maybe it's fear. Of change. Of new. Of moving forward. When a bird is kept in a cage for too long, she forgets how to use her wings.