The horizon I had to cross, the life I had to endure
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The nights in my hometown were not a time for dreaming. Life then was a matter of endurance and the night the only time to lay down to gather strength for the next day.
As a North Korean, this was not something that I took to be normal. I am, after all, a human being like anyone else. Everyone dreams of a happy and free life. I was one of them.
Yet I realized, quite late, that such dreams are not granted to everyone from the same starting line. Depending on the society a person is born into, a dream can be a goal attainable through effort, or a luxury he is forbidden even to imagine.
On this small territory of the Korean peninsula lies the divided reality of North and South. We share the same language and history, but our two societies have gone off in completely different directions. In the South, people worry about how to live better. In the North, we worry each day about survival.
Life, then, is less about dreaming of tomorrow, and more about simply making it through to meet it.
Days repeat endlessly, filled with worry about food, clothing, and shelter. The first thought upon waking is anxiety over what to eat.
Fatigue and unease are etched in the faces of people on the way to school and to work. In such a world, it feels less like living and more like enduring time.
This is why North Koreans look to South Korea with such longing. Despite years of information blockage and lies, we all know now that South Korea is a prosperous nation. We know people there can make free choices.
Our longing is not mere curiosity. It is a desperate wish to live with dignity. Looking back from the other side and facing that gaze, I realize that the place I now stand is never something to be taken for granted.
One day, a small incident happened in an alley that I can never forget. On one side of the alley there was a ramshackle wooden fence, and on the other, a solid concrete wall. A man walking along looked at the two barriers and casually joked: “Even here, North and South are divided.”
It did not sound funny to me. For him, the difference between the wooden fence and the concrete wall symbolized the difference between the two Korean systems. They reflected the respective value placed on life itself. There in the alley, one side had a temporary boundary, the other an unyielding barrier.
At that moment, I realized division was not just a line drawn on a map. It had seeped deep into people’s perceptions, thoughts, and daily lives.
For me, crossing the horizon had not been simply a physical journey. It was a transformation of life’s conditions, a choice to reclaim dignity. From afar, the horizon looks like a beautiful meeting of sea and sky. But to actually cross it requires the courage to leave behind everything familiar and step into an entirely new and different world. Each day had to be endured amidst fear, uncertainty, and unshakable longing. Even beyond the horizon, another reality awaited.
Yet one truth remains clear. That is that those harshest of times were never in vain. Had I not crossed that distant horizon, I would still be living in a society where dreams were forbidden. I have not yet reached complete happiness, but at least I live a life where I can choose. That difference is greater and more precious than I can express.
The horizon I had to cross was the boundary that split my life, and the time I had to endure left marks that made me stronger.
This story may feel remote to some. But countless people in North Korea, even now, gaze at the horizon in our southward direction, enduring today in hopes of a tomorrow they may never reach.
On the map, that horizon was clearly marked. But at sea, nothing was visible. Still, invisibility does not mean nonexistence. That unseen boundary continues to divide countless lives. As someone who has crossed it, I hope for the day when anyone can freely speak of their dreams.
Until that day comes, I will not forget the time and memories I lived through, and I will continue to tell this story.
Daenam’s journey began in North Korea, where he was employed at a state-run company serving the nation’s elite. Seeking freedom, he defected and now continues his life as a college student, building a new future.
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