what do i even say here?

Who is that boy I see, staring straight back at me? Why is my reflection someone I don’t know?

me these days

You caught me at an awkward time. Disoriented by identity crisis, I’m struggling to find the words to fill this “about me” page. I can best describe myself for now as a recovering capitalist, but let’s start with the path I took here.

Born to Korean immigrants, a littler me was always scared. Scared seeing my mom’s face as she thumbed through the bills. Scared of my parents yelling at each other. Scared of losing our home, which we eventually did. Everything about my character was built around this fear. I was hellbent on making my childhood monsters bow at my feet. Fear made me focused. Fear made me confident (okay fine, cocky). Fear made me fearless. Somewhere along the way, I lost my way, and my innocent wish for financial security was corrupted by Icarian pride. Mistaking the dusty business degree in the attic and some years as a cog in the corporate world as qualifications for running a business, I bought a package delivery company meant to secure my family’s future and validate my greatness. Seven days a week for the next two years, I played whack-a-mole with broken trucks, drivers going too fast, drivers going too slow, fender benders, package theft, pissed off customers, and more broken trucks, all while hemorrhaging cash. My stomach clenched every time my phone rang. My hair soon had enough and severed ties with my scalp. Then I had enough, and in the summer of 2024, I dumped my company in a fire sale. Hello rock bottom.

Courage is knowing it might hurt and doing it anyway. Stupidity is the same. That’s why life is hard.

Jeremy Goldberg, guy who gets it

When I lost my business, I lost my meaning and purpose—the pillars of my identity. Trapped in a riptide of feelings I did not understand, I turned into this angry, broken man I did not recognize, finding new lows through drinking and isolation. On the surface, I put on this stupid tough guy act that no one gave me an Oscar for. One layer down, I was scared again, scared of who I was becoming, scared my kids would grow up with an asshole father, scared of the distance growing in my marriage, scared the joy I once took with me everywhere was gone forever. Was I ready to lose my soul to save my face? By necessity, I accepted that asking for help is an act of strength, not of weakness, and that pain needs oxygen to heal. I held my nose and swallowed the steaming turd pie that is my pride. For the first time in my life, I truly opened up, and in my nakedness, friends and family covered my wounds with love. The color started returning to my world, and I came to appreciate the deep tissue massage that is vulnerability—pressing on the tender spots, however painful, to release tension. After somewhat gathering myself with the help of good people, I decided nothing is more meaningful and purposeful than creating a platform that elevates our stories and the powerful emotions within them. No one should have to face their demons alone. This is the thesis that became asians open.

Conceal don’t feel

Queen Elsa of Arendelle, great singer but terrible advice giver

The emphasis on Asians is important. In the butt crack of despair, I felt so deeply the need to lock my pain inside a prison of shame, that on some level I deserved to feel this way. Raised in a proud culture that solves problems with hustle and achievement, I found it so hard to admit failure to myself, much less talk about it openly. If only I could have realized my admittedly unsexy dream of building a package delivery empire. I would have happily written a book called Yong Jeon: America’s Next Top Model Minority. My mom would have bragged to all her friends about me. My dad might have given me a grunt of approval. The cold reality was that my fairy tale ending is the kind Disney doesn’t write, the ending that sucks to tell. But in telling it, people reached out to embrace me and helped me understand that my flaws make me human, not sub-human. This compelled me to normalize, or at least attempt to, telling the stories that are hardest for Asians to put in front of others—because stories have the power to evoke compassion in people. Asians are most recognized for our success. It’s time we are recognized for our struggle too.

The best way to find yourself, is to lose yourself in the service of others.

Gandhi, smart South Asian guy

For the first time in my adult life, I am completely untethered from a career. It’s terrifying to float in space without a next rung on the ladder to ground me. But in the uncertainty of infinite possibilities, the possibility to reinvent myself hangs in the balance. Maybe I can give this humility thing a try. Maybe I can care less about myself and more about others. I can definitely get better at understanding and communicating my feelings (cue cheers from my wife). I don’t have to be scared of the person I’ve become. Who I am today matters less than who I choose to be tomorrow. I hope asians open is a step towards a better version of me. I hope it is for you too. And if you’re limping, let’s limp together.

Yong Jeon (전용희), guy who is figuring it out