After locking myself in my room and successfully preventing my brain cells from exploding while interactively reading World History documents, I quickly turn on my mattress heater and dive into bed. I immediately take my phone out and open Netflix, impatiently waiting for the K-drama episode to flicker onto the screen, curious to see how the couple’s romance is progressing.
Trying to pinpoint where and when my obsession with K-dramas began, I sifted through the fading corners of my memory. Ever since I was 3 years old, I’ve had an undeniable connection to them. It wasn’t something I actively sought out or chose to engage with — it just happened to be part of my daily routine. Every day, as I crawled into my mother’s arms to go to sleep, 30-minute K-drama episodes always accompanied us. The characters’ dialogues would soon help me fall to sleep, becoming a staple soundtrack of my childhood.
Soon enough, I began to sleep on my own, and, as a result, K-dramas slowly drifted away from my narrative. Instead, during my elementary school years, I often came back home to catch up on Ninjago episodes or build enormous Lego sets.
Fast forward nine years later: The pandemic hit. I was looking for a new hobby to occupy my time — a pastime that was interesting but didn’t require too much effort. I wanted something that would help me escape the monotony of my quarantine life.
That’s when I again stumbled upon them — K-dramas.
During those seemingly endless days in quarantine, I found myself diving into the world of K-dramas once again. I wasn’t expecting much — only something lighthearted and easygoing to pass the time. But the moment I clicked play on the romantic comedy, “My Love from the Star,” nostalgia overcame me. The familiar warmth of the characters, empathizing dialogues, conflicting perspectives and the pitch-perfect original soundtracks felt like home. I was hooked.
K-dramas resonate with me like no other genre. As an emotional person, I’m so absorbed in the characters’ relationships that I almost feel like a bystander in the true scene. I find myself laughing over a character’s awkward interaction with their crush, or getting frustrated when the male lead can’t understand the female lead’s feelings. When an episode ends with a cliffhanger, I frantically click the “Next Episode” button like my life depends on it.
Unlike most people, I do not watch K-dramas with subtitles as I am fluent in Korean, offering me the most authentic version of the dialogues that translated language doesn’t. When watching, I feel connected to Korean cultures as I am not exposed to my native culture often as an immigrant. Being immersed by Korean language, traditions and societal issues through the screen reaffirm my identity as a Korean.
My taste in K-drama varies. I love a cheesy romantic comedy with heart fluttering moments that makes my dopamine skyrocket — but I also can’t resist a well-crafted thriller with cliffhangers keeping me on edge.
Of course, during the school weeks, classes and extracurriculars keep me busy most of the time, so my K-drama binges are reserved for breaks. While others may catch up on their sleep, I turn on binge-mode, typically completing one series in a week. During the recent February break, I began watching “Melo Movie,” a romantic comedy series on Netflix. The plot follows Go Gyeom (Choi Woo-Shik) and Kim Moo-bi (Park Bo-Young), who once had a crush on each other and meet five years later as a film critic and a film director.
Although the fact that two almost-lovers meeting again is unlikely to happen in reality, I was interested to see how Go Gyeom and Kim Moo-Bi would be able to build their relationship despite their job rivalry, clashing over their creative visions while navigating their unresolved feelings.
Maybe watching K-dramas might not be the most conventional hobby for a high school guy, but I don’t hide my love for K-dramas. This genre has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, and I don’t see myself growing apart from the shows anytime soon. They’re my guilty pleasure, and, at the same time, they’re an integral part of who I am.
