A Hug, True Comfort, and the Meaning of Love

A Hug, True Comfort, and the Meaning of Love

There have been a few difficult days. My mother was diagnosed with cancer, and because I live abroad, I had to hear that news from far away. The pain of that distance feels unbearable. I haven’t been able to sleep for days, and I can hardly remember what I’ve eaten. This country has become my home, but in moments like this, I realize how many people I’ve left behind—and how I still feel like a stranger when pain visits.

Then, something happened with my neighbor that made things even heavier. She has sometimes sent her child to my house without an adult, even though I’ve told her someday not to do that. But this time, while I was away teaching, she ignored my words again and sent her child over—without the mother. There was already some conflict between me because of a Roblox issue, and I couldn’t understand why she kept repeating the same mistake. So this time, I wrote her a formal letter to keep a record of it.

She said she was too tired from raking leaves and that her child wanted to play with mine, and that my husband had said “yes,” so she thought it was fine. She's self-centered. Perhaps it's because she needs to rest. She said she was tired and needed to shower. But why didn’t she contact me first?
She should have come with her child herself and supervised to make sure it was okay to enter. And she should ask my husband, Where am I. 
I hadn’t slept for days and just wanted to rest at home. I didn’t want to see anyone. Everything about her felt one-sided. I even tried to ask ChatGPT how to persuade her more gently, but nothing worked. Then she sent me another unreasonable message—completely out of line. After reading it, I thought, This is it, this relationship is over. And strangely, I felt peace. Maybe we were never meant to get along. She is not my friend. She’s just a neighbor—not even a close one. So why does she treat my boundaries so lightly and act as if we’ve been best friends for years?

At that moment, I realized again how important it is to respect other people’s boundaries. Why don’t some people try to show manners or respect? Why do they think only from their own point of view and use another’s kindness for their own benefit?

That night, I couldn’t sleep again. It reminded me of something that happened years ago. One of my child’s friends, right in front of me, sprinkled ketchup, pepper, and salt onto a half-eaten ice cream, then called my child to come eat it. The girl made that strange mixture of food and then giggled, saying, “That’s disgusting.” I heard that. I told her, “Don’t play with food like that,” but it didn’t help.
My heart was torn. The child's mother sat right there but said nothing. When I told her about it later, she didn’t apologize immediately—I had to ask for one. 
I sent her a message saying that playing with food like that is completely unacceptable and that I hope she would make sure such a thing never happens again. But she replied sarcastically, asking if her previous apology wasn’t enough, and said that “someday the truth will come out.”
What truth is she talking about? Why does she believe she’s the one who’s right?
Sometimes I wonder—am I really living in a normal world?​
Why do such unreasonable things happen? Living far from home sometimes feels much heavier than I imagined.
So I told her, right in front of her, that I would be taking a break and that our children would not be meeting for a while. As we parted, I said that if she ever needed help, she could always ask me—because we are from the same country, and I still believe we should help one another, even if we part on bad terms.
Then I remembered the list of useful information I had already prepared to help her. I had made it in advance, thinking it might be of help someday. But when I mentioned it, she suddenly got angry and said, “Are you threatening me now?”
Is that a normal reaction? I was so shocked that I almost collapsed in front of the school gate. Since then, we’ve become strangers who pretend not to know each other. Later, I heard through others that she has been speaking badly about me.
Is that normal?

This morning, I stopped by the dentist and then went to Bible study. I shared my story there, and people comforted me, encouraged me, and hugged me. After all the senseless things I’ve experienced lately, their warmth felt like tears. It was so simple, but it reached my heart deeply.
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Has anyone else ever gone through something like this? Writing about it here makes me feel connected, as if I’m receiving comfort through words. My heart feels calmer now. I’m truly grateful for this space

​When I went to church, I felt a strange sense of relief—perhaps because I was reminded that there are still normal, kind-hearted people in the world.
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Please understand that this situation was inappropriate. A child should never visit another household without the consent of both parents, especially when the supervising adult is not the child’s parent. This raises serious safety and supervision concerns.

From now on, please ensure that your children do not come into our home unless we have both communicated and agreed in advance.

                                                                                                            Part of letter

I’ve loved writing since I was a child. When I write, the feeling of injustice fades away. In life, we all experience unfairness—but often, there’s nowhere to tell our story, no place to explain what really happened. The experiences I described above were truly unreasonable.
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Living in America, I still can’t understand how someone can neglect their duty to protect a child—leaving them home alone, or sending them to another person’s house unsupervised—and yet act as if it’s perfectly fine. What I mean is, without prior consent, the child is led to seek permission from an adult, and instead of the mother taking the child, the child is allowed to go without a guardian. How can a mother who witnessed her own child bullying mine still be so confident, even as a fellow Korean? It feels so unfair.
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But when I write, something changes. Writing and documentation have power. So I keep writing—every day, almost endlessly. I paint, and I write. And that has become my way of surviving. I wrote this piece out of a wish for others to understand why such behavior is not normal and why it can deeply hurt someone.
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Today, at Bible Study, I felt an even greater power. Just sitting there—seeing people’s hugs, encouragement, and warm eyes—gave me strength.
Today, I wanted to write about this: how comfort and kindness help us endure the world. I hope my words can reach someone who is struggling with something similar, so that they, too, can feel understood, encouraged, and less alone.
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And starting today, I will write without hesitation and without fear of anyone’s judgment. I will no longer try to soften or justify anything. I’m tired of wrapping absurd situations in understanding and forgiveness.
From now on, I will write whenever the thoughts come—honestly, as they are. I will also write about the beautiful people around me, the ones who bring light and kindness into my life.
I will keep writing, and I will not stop.

​I once saw one of my friends post a long message on Facebook after experiencing something deeply unfair. Many people commented with encouragement and support. Looking back, I still think she faced terrible and undeserved humiliation at work. I remember feeling both admiration for her courage to speak out and a bit of hesitation—thinking maybe she should try to discuss it directly with the person involved.
But today, I finally understand: there are people you simply cannot reason with. They live in a completely different world. Common sense doesn’t work with them. There’s only their way, their truth, their world.
That’s why we need our own space to write. Writing is freedom—no one can take that away from us. We don’t have to name anyone or accuse anyone directly; we just learn from what we’ve experienced.
Through these experiences, I’ve found relief from my frustration, lightness in my heart, and a clearer understanding of my own thoughts. I’ve learned once again the importance of setting boundaries, something I can now teach my child. And I’ve come to appreciate even more the value of kindness, love, and the healing power of a simple hug.