I moved to Korea almost four years ago, but for the first three, I wasn't really living as an adult. I was a student. That meant university dorm life, friends just a few doors away, and a system that quietly handled everything for me—my visa, my schedule, even my sense of direction. My biggest concerns were simple: finishing assignments on time or deciding what to eat for lunch. Then, suddenly, that structure disappeared.
Last year was the first time I had to face Korea on my own terms—as a foreigner navigating visas, employment, rent, and decisions that no one else would make for me. Not having any shelter – be it in the form of family back at home, university, professors here – it is hard not to feel alone and scared. You are plagued with the thoughts of whether you would be able to do it truly, or should you just go back to the comfort of your home. I chose to stay because I believed my story hadn't ended with Korea yet. All of it felt overwhelming at first, but I told myself to take things one step at a time. Slowly, things began to fall into place.
But nothing really prepared me for what came next: stepping into a Korean corporate for the first time. Working in Korea, especially as a foreigner, is every international student's biggest fear! There is the language, the pace, and subtle communication styles that take time to understand and adapt to. I had studied Korean for years and could manage everyday conversations. But this was the first time I found myself in situations where communication carried real weight—where what you said, how you said it, and even what you chose not to say could directly shape how you were perceived.
While I will speak more about navigating language and cultural nuances in a later column, what surprised me most in those initial days was something much more unexpected. I found myself constantly thinking about something as simple as… what to wear.

1 Corporate Life in Korea

I still remember my first day at Amorepacific vividly. Before even thinking about work, I was focused on getting my outfit right. In Seoul, you constantly see office workers who look effortlessly polished and composed. I had always wondered how people managed to maintain that level of presentation every single day. And now, stepping into one of Korea's leading beauty companies, that awareness felt even stronger.

So I chose what felt safe—a simple coat and pants. But the moment I walked into the building, not as a visitor but as an employee, I realized something almost immediately. It wasn't just about the clothes. What stood out was how people carried themselves. The confidence in their posture, the energy in their greetings, and the quiet sense of professionalism created a presence that went far beyond appearance.

At first, I found myself questioning it. Was this emphasis on appearance simply about looking good? Was it a kind of expectation to fit into a certain image? But as the days went by, my perspective began to shift. I started to understand that, in this environment, "beauty" is not treated as something superficial. It functions almost like a form of professionalism or as a quintessential part of your professional life.

The effort you put into how you present yourself signals something. It reflects discipline, attention to detail, and a level of respect—for your work, for your colleagues, and for yourself. This was in contrast with my home country. While appearance certainly matters there, it is not always so closely tied to how seriously you are perceived in a professional setting. Here, I began to see that presentation plays a more active role in shaping first impressions and everyday interactions.

2 Finding your own beauty

Over time, I noticed a change in myself as well.

What started as an external effort—trying to meet expectations—gradually became more internal. The beginning of that change was actually very small, almost inconsequential, but its impact was significant.

One morning, while preparing for an important presentation, I spent a little more time getting ready than usual. I chose my outfit carefully, did my skincare, and put on a bit of makeup—everything within my comfort—as I prepared myself for the day. That small moment of "me-time" in the morning uplifted me and made me feel ready for what lay ahead. I didn't just look more put together—I felt more confident and more intentional in how I approached my work.

What I had initially understood as "beauty" in a surface-level sense began to take on a different meaning. It was no longer just about appearance, but about how you choose to show up every day—with clarity, effort, and intention. I also began to see the role of discipline in it. The consistency of maintaining yourself, presenting yourself, and putting in that daily effort—it goes beyond aesthetics and becomes a habit, almost a mindset.

At the same time, I came to understand that balance is important. External presentation can shape confidence and perception, but it cannot replace what comes from within—your thoughts, your attitude, and the way you carry yourself beyond appearance. As a global intern navigating a new work culture, this was an unexpected lesson.

In the end, beauty is not just something you see. It is something you practice.

Over time, this also became something more personal for me. What once felt like an external expectation gradually turned into a small, intentional routine. Taking a few moments in the morning for skincare or makeup became less about appearance, and more about how I chose to begin my day—with focus, energy, and a sense of readiness. What initially felt unfamiliar slowly became a space where I could express myself in my own way. Rather than simply blending in, I found myself adapting the culture to fit my own identity. And perhaps that is what I take away most from this experience. Beauty is not just about meeting a standard—it is about finding your own way of showing up within it.

I am still in the process of adapting, discovering my own sense of beauty a little more with each new experience. And while I continue to navigate this aspect of corporate life, I've also found myself drawn to another equally interesting dimension—communication. The nuances of language, culture, and expression have been both challenging and fascinating, shaping my experience in unexpected ways.
It's something I look forward to exploring further in my next column.