Three days had passed, and Taehyung found himself in his office once again, surrounded by the familiar smell of wood and leather that permeated the space. The polished desk gleamed under the soft glow of the overhead lights, papers neatly arranged, and a single pen resting perfectly on its holder—everything in its place, as always. His eyes flickered briefly to the clock, noting the time before he turned his attention back to the woman seated across from him.
The client, a woman in her late thirties with an air of weariness clinging to her, was speaking with a quiet but urgent tone. Her voice trembled slightly as she recounted the struggles she had been facing with her new family. She had recently remarried, but the dynamic in her new home had quickly become overwhelming. The constant undermining by her new husband and his family had caused her to feel trapped in a life she had never anticipated.
"It’s like they’re always looking at me with suspicion," she said, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "Every decision I make feels like it’s wrong. I feel like I’m being controlled by their judgments and expectations, and no matter what I do, I can’t seem to break free from their hold. It’s suffocating, Dr. Kim."
Taehyung, ever the composed figure, leaned forward slightly, his fingers steepled as he listened intently. His calm, calculating demeanor did not waver as he processed the gravity of the situation. He had seen his fair share of troubled relationships and complex family dynamics, but this case felt different—more personal in its pain.
"It’s understandable to feel trapped in an environment where your voice is constantly undermined," Taehyung responded, his voice smooth but firm. "When you’re constantly being shown that your choices don’t matter, it can feel as though you're losing your autonomy. It’s like being silenced and diminished. What’s worse, you’re being controlled under the guise of ‘family expectations’—something that should be built on mutual respect and understanding."
The woman nodded, her lips trembling as tears welled up in her eyes. "I feel so... small. Like I don’t matter. I don’t know how to be myself anymore. Every time I try to speak up, they just shut me down, as if I’m not allowed to have a say in my own life."
Taehyung remained silent for a moment, allowing her words to settle in the room. The vulnerability in her voice mirrored something deeper within him—perhaps it was the weight of his own experiences, or perhaps it was the way he could always sense when someone was struggling to maintain their identity in a world that seemed to keep pulling them in every direction but their own. He knew what it felt like to be controlled by external pressures, to constantly fight for your own space and sense of self.
"I want you to know that it’s okay to feel this way," he said, his tone softer now, almost a whisper. "You’re not alone in this, and this feeling doesn’t define you. The first step is recognizing your own worth, your own power. You have the right to set boundaries, to demand respect, and to create a space where you can exist as your true self. I’ll guide you through how to regain that control, but you must first believe that you deserve it."
There was a quiet pause as the woman absorbed his words. For a moment, the weight on her shoulders seemed to lessen, her posture straightening just slightly as a flicker of hope appeared in her eyes. Taehyung’s gaze softened, though his expression remained the same, a delicate balance of warmth and professionalism.
"You deserve to be seen and heard, not just in your home but in your own life," he added, his voice steady and sure. "And I will help you find the strength to stand tall again."
The woman wiped her eyes, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She seemed grateful, but there was still a long road ahead. Taehyung could see that. He had no illusions about the difficulty of what lay ahead for her, but he knew that, with time and the right tools, she would regain her sense of self. That was the key to everything—finding that internal strength to stand up to the weight of the world pressing down on you. It wasn’t easy, but it was possible.
