My earliest memories are painted with hues of complexity and hardship, a canvas woven from the threads of a tumultuous era and familial challenges. Born into a world defined by the aftermath of the Korean War, I carried the weight of a silent disapproval from my grandfather, who viewed my existence through the lens of a cultural bias that favored sons over daughters.

The echoes of the war's impact reverberated through our lives, making every mouth to feed a burden, especially in the harshness of those post-war years. Raised in the embrace of my grandmother in the village, I became intimately familiar with the ache of not living with my mother, a woman whose sacrifices took her to the city in search of a livelihood. The warmth of her presence was replaced by the sturdy love of my grandmother, who became the nurturing force that anchored my early years.

In the absence of knowing my birth father, I embraced the love of my Korean stepfather when I was two years old, whom I had thought was my real father but found out in a startling way that he was not when I was a teenager. A poignant tale unfolded in the quiet corner of post-war Korea, a web that my father was involved in the perilous world of black-market activities driven by an unwavering love for his family to provide. However, his involvement in illicit activities led him down a path that eventually led to incarceration. The instability of our circumstances cast a shadow over the formative years of my childhood.

The turning point came when, at the age of twelve, I found myself in a foreign land—the United States. Reuniting with my mother after years of separation held the promise of a new beginning, but the challenges persisted. My American stepfather, far from the perfect role model, imposed changes that severed my connection to my Korean heritage. My age was altered, an American nickname bestowed upon me, and the flavors of Korean cuisine were replaced by the unfamiliar tastes of an adopted culture.

The journey of adaptation was riddled with complexities, a delicate dance between holding onto my roots and embracing the new. The immigrant experience shaped me in ways profound and transformative, becoming a chapter in a story that defied simplicity and beckoned resilience. Through it all, the strains of my early years echoed, a melody of a childhood marked by a quest for identity, acceptance, and the enduring strength found in the face of adversity.