"Thirty-five, the first time I had the courage to do something for myself."

"I Wanted to Go to New York and That Was All" is a record of the courage of a writer who had lived according to society's standards and the gaze of others, who put aside a ten-year career and spent an autumn month in New York, the city she had dreamed of since she was fourteen.
It contains a cross-section of the month I spent in New York, which I chose as a turning point in my life, and my reflections on the past through that time.
We've unraveled relatable stories about college entrance exams, job hunting, the hellish commute to work, and company life.
The friendships I made as a late-blooming language student in New York, the moments of inspiration I encountered at art galleries and museums, the questions I asked myself and the answers I received… After all this time, New York is no longer a mirage-like "city of dreams," but a city where I could choose change.


- People whose life direction is still wavering after the age of 30
- A person who wants to live in that place that he keeps in his heart someday
- To those who want to find the courage to be their ‘true selves’ this fall

This book will be a small respite and a warm encouragement.

To be precise, my trip to the US was just a symbol of the change in my life, and I needed a breakthrough in my life.
As someone with high anxiety, I carried around 'Next Step' and 'Option B' like a keychain in my life.
Anxiety and the fear it brings often become the catalyst that helps me, a timid person, move forward like a bulldozer.
But my gunpowder would burn hot and fiercely, then, like a dud, it would die down and disappear as if it had never started.
I really hated that and it made me sad.
I always wanted to explode.
I wanted to explode and fly into the sky, lighting up the sky with hot light.
--- p.12 From “Starting the Story”

Commuting from Gyeonggi-do to Seoul was a chore.
Even though I was on a crowded express train and enduring the cramped subway with not a single inch of space between me, when the train arrived at the next stop, more people were swarming in.
The stomach of the person behind me, the elbow of the person next to me, and the buttocks of the person in front of me were touching unpleasantly, and unpleasant looks and sharp shouts of "I'm getting off!" crossed sharply between those getting off and those getting on.

--- p.48 From "Feeling Like a Student"

This pretty bookstore often stopped passersby in their tracks.
People stopped in their tracks, took out their phones, and took pictures of the bookstore.
Every time that happened, I would sit by the bookstore window and become the background in their photos.
Being in New York meant being prepared to be the backdrop in someone's photo at any given time.
But the New Yorkers I've noticed, for the most part, don't mind having their picture taken.
They were willing to be the backdrop.
Perhaps it is because the streets and scenery of New York are beautiful places that tourists and New Yorkers alike want to capture in photos at any time.

--- p.99 From "Rest in the City"

One of the three letters in my name is 'Moon (文)'.
Overseas, people often introduce me as 'Moon'.
To me, the moon is hope, which makes me who I am and allows me to imagine what I want to imagine, unlike the sun which makes everything clear.
The shape of hope has always been different.
Sometimes I wandered around, unable to find my way, and other times I was swollen like a bright full moon.
But it doesn't matter what it looks like, just having hope is enough. I look out the window to see the moon, but there's no moon.
Like Van Gogh, I will keep the moon in my heart.

--- p.146 From “Times When Senses Awaken”