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[Netflix ‘When Life Gives You Tangerines’ Review #1] Housework Is a Human Language
Why does “being good at housework” get criticized?
These days, when someone says, “He’s good at housework,” there’s almost always someone who immediately pushes back, calling it a “patriarchal expression.” I don’t agree. Housework isn’t something you do because you’re told to; it’s an everyday skill you naturally learn out of respect for the people you live with.
Consideration is not a habit, but a sensibility
I’m a man, but at the table I always serve the elders first, fill others’ bowls before my own, and take my food last. That wasn’t a habit so much as a way of caring for the people I was with. I learned long ago that when others are comfortable, I am too.
“Attentiveness” is not an outdated virtue
Yet in the drama, Geum-myeong feels awkward even serving a bowl of sungnyung to elders at a formal family meeting. That in itself isn’t wrong. The problem is that she seems to regard such acts as trivial—as if consideration and attentiveness were outdated virtues. To me, that attitude felt immature.
Housework is about reading the rhythm of life
Knowing housework means knowing the rhythm of daily life: who’s hungry, who’s about to stand up first, how the atmosphere at the table is shifting. That requires emotional sensitivity and practical awareness to work at the same time. It’s not simply about being good at cleaning or doing the dishes. It’s a form of everyday intelligence that combines empathy, etiquette, and responsibility toward others.
Not oppression, but the aesthetics of relationships
Serving food to elders, clearing the table, noticing someone’s discomfort before it’s spoken—these are not acts of oppression. They’re the aesthetics of relationships. Those who haven’t learned them aren’t victims of their era; they simply haven’t yet learned the skills of living together.
The skills of living together
That’s why I still believe this: whether you marry or live together or not, regardless of gender—housework is a language that reveals human maturity. Those who dismiss it as trivial are, in the end, people who don’t know how to read others.
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The Beginning of Recovery
Seven Years of Depression, Twenty-Seven Years of Complex PTSD
Early recovery responses commonly described by professionals
1. Emotional flashbacks
Emotions replay as if from the past, even without a triggering situation—tears, helplessness, excessive guilt, and the like.2. Somatic release
As the body begins to release tension on its own, it may respond with drowsiness, pain, tears, or similar reactions.3. Confusion phase of recovery
A period of uncertainty about whether things are improving or getting worse. Most people in recovery must pass through this phase before entering a more stable stage.
Lately, I’ve been overwhelmingly sleepy, and tears sometimes flow for no apparent reason. Could this be a common intensification seen early in treatment—an aggravation that occurs as defenses weaken and self-awareness expands, a kind of emotional release?
If so, the concerns in such situations are these: when emotional regulation collapses beyond control, when sleep disturbances worsen, or when self-harm impulses or severe dissociation emerge.
In my case, I have experienced severe dissociation. It felt as if my soul were separating from my body. By “soul,” I mean the location where I perceive my body to be. In other words, the actual position of my body and the position I perceive it to occupy become different—sometimes subtly, sometimes starkly. When I moved even slightly in that state, the affected part would go numb. Moving my head, in particular, combined with visual input to trigger intense motion sickness. I truly felt close to dying. I vomited, broke out in cold sweats, couldn’t breathe properly—it felt like being on a small fishing boat battling a violent storm in the open sea. I honestly wondered whether I needed to call emergency services. Since that day, I haven’t experienced dissociation to that degree; what remains is a chronic, mild numbness in my hands and a lingering sense of queasiness.
I don’t have self-harm impulses. I do sometimes scratch myself unconsciously until my skin breaks or bleeds, but that isn’t something I do deliberately or with intent. What I’ve noticed instead is a faint suicidal ideation—not strong enough to act on, but thoughts like “I want to die” or “I wish someone would kill me.” Standing in a high place, I might think about what it would be like to fall; when a car passes by, I might imagine jumping into it. Still, survival instinct—or a stronger sense of “why bother?”—prevails, so I don’t act on these thoughts. If this were simply a worsening of symptoms, it could be a dangerous psychological state that leads to suicide. But if it’s a temporary intensification within recovery, time may resolve it.
People often say that at times like this, you should try to express your emotions clearly. I thought about keeping a journal, but I don’t have the energy to write by hand. I actually like handwriting—it feels expressive and satisfying, and I think my handwriting is aesthetically pleasing. But now it takes too much effort. So I write like this instead. Typing is less exhausting. I assume most people, busy with their own lives, will pass this by—and that’s fine. I’m just leaving it here. If, for any reason, you didn’t pass it by, I hope you’ll simply think, “I see,” and move on. I’m receiving counseling and taking my medication properly. Still, therapy and medication are only supportive tools; unlike physical illness, this is something I ultimately have to overcome myself. The symptom is a lack of will, yet recovery requires will—what a paradox. Perhaps this points to the limits of current human treatment methods.
That’s why I sometimes wonder: what if we created a different kind of solution? One where you don’t have to strain yourself, go to the hospital, or ask for help—where you simply live your life and gradually get better. An AI solution combining AI + healthcare + games + DTx (Digital Therapeutics). But there’s so much to study. If I were healthy, I think I could do it—but can I, as I am now? Even if I try, I don’t know when I could make it happen. This field is a frontier—could I stake a claim on that high ground?
#Thoughts_No_20250605