I Want to Die but I Want to Eat Tteokbokki

by Baek Se-hee

The contradictory state of longing for intimacy but also wanting to keep others at arm’s length is called the hedgehog’s dilemma.

thought about whether this confidence was because I believed being thin might lead to better health, but I don’t think that’s it; it’s because I feel more in control. I hate thinking I’m getting ugly, or not wearing what I want. Which is why I become obsessed with my weight. The social gaze is so insidious, and despite any escape being impossible, I want to escape it. But I don’t want to deliberately become fat, either. I don’t know why an individual has to be treated as less-than and strive to fit society’s standards when it’s the people who denigrate others who are the real problem. That frustrates me. That I can’t step out of this frame, that I still feel inferior when I meet someone supposedly superior to me, and that I feel confident and comfortable when I meet someone supposedly inferior – I absolutely loathe that about myself.

relatable re: body image

place more importance on attitude than on character. Actually, I believe that attitude contains character. That honesty, which is an attitude, shows in the smallest of things and the most insignificant of moments. I tend to look closely at the eyes, gestures, speech and movements of a person in trying to discern them. When I love someone, I have many questions for them, but these questions are not always asked in words. Sometimes, they’re expressed in gestures. The chin resting on a hand as they look towards me, the eyes concentrating on my mouth, the nodding, the hue and shading of their responses as they punctuate my story. I pour out my heart to them and answer questions they ask me. Every word becomes a question, and every word becomes an answer. This is what it feels like to have someone to whom you could reveal everything to, even when you’re not asked.

This is why I like people who draw answers from me without even asking a question, or who seem to answer my questions before I even ask them. This connection gives me the warmest of feelings. But I do feel a bit bereft. Where do the questions we’ve swallowed end up? Do they scatter somewhere or sink deep inside of us? Do they manifest in strange behaviours or habits? And wouldn’t such silence come in the way of making deeply felt connections with others? That’s what I fear the most.