Joy's Story: Part 3 - A Difficult Decision
Read parts one and two of Joy's story that detail her life in North Korea and how she was sold as a bride in China.
When I started living with the Chinese man I was sold to, I thought of escaping after six months. I just did what the Chinese man wanted without thinking about birth-control—I never had proper sex education. Two months later, he and his family took me to a hospital for a pregnancy test. I was pregnant. I am so sorry to my daughter for this, but after I got pregnant was so miserable and I felt like I was stuck in this situation because of the baby. I knew that I couldn’t escape until I gave birth to my daughter and raised her for a while. I was not happy, but the Chinese man and his family were. I am very sorry to my daughter for how I felt about having her back then, but the pregnancy was not what I wanted and I didn’t love the Chinese man. I actually tried to abort the baby by jumping down from a high tree many times but it didn’t happen.
I ended up having a daughter and raised her for two years before I escaped.
When I was still raising my daughter and living with the Chinese man and I was losing hope about my life, the North Korean broker who sold me into marriage got back to me and introduced me to some people who later connected me to LiNK’s network. She told me that she felt really bad for selling me to the Chinese man but she had to do it to survive in China as a North Korean herself. When she told me about going to South Korea and life there, I felt like that was my last chance to have my life back again. At that point, I was no longer breastfeeding and my baby had started to talk, so I thought the Chinese man’s parents could take care of her. I decided to leave for South Korea.
I was so sad to leave my two-year-old daughter in China.
Before I left, I thought of taking her with me, but she was still very young and I was not sure if I was going to make it to South Korea safely so I didn't want to risk her life.
To this day I feel guilty and sorry about having left her so I could have freedom and better life. I know my daughter has been hurt a lot by my leaving.
Before I started moving to get out of China I stayed with some other defectors before I got connected to LiNK's network. At the time, I cried every day thinking of my daughter. Even when I was sleeping in the house, I kept waking up to see if my little daughter was sleeping well on my arm and realized that she was not with me anymore.
I didn't want to cry in front of other defectors, so I cried behind a curtain and I found another North Korean woman crying there because she also left her child. We ended up hugging each other and crying together.
Since I resettled to South Korea a few years ago, I have been talking with my daughter through online video calls as often as possible. She is doing well and is now in elementary school, but I can tell she has been so hurt by my absence in her life. It breaks my heart when she asks me why I am not with her. Whenever there is homework about family or whenever her teacher asks her to bring her mom, she gets so sad and I feel so helpless and remorseful. I plan to visit her in China on one of my summer breaks from college.
It is so ironic because I was so hurt a lot by my mom for leaving me and my family when I was a little kid and I did the same thing to my own daughter.
Now I understand why my mom had to make such a decision...Hopefully there will be a day my daughter can understand and forgive me.
I Escaped at 6 Years Old. Am I Really North Korean?
By Sean
Sean is a participant of LiNK’s Intensive English Program (LIEP), designed to build the capacity of North Korean English speakers at the intermediate level. In partnership with the British Council, LIEP aims to cultivate participants’ communication and critical thinking skills in English. LIEP is complementary to our broader LiNK English Language Program (LELP), which supports speakers of all proficiency levels.
From Fear to My Spear
Growing up, I was a very timid boy who avoided anything that made me uncomfortable. I never raised my hand in class because I was too embarrassed to speak in front of people. Just the thought of everyone looking at me made me freeze.
One time in elementary school, every student had to sing in front of the class for a music assignment. I was extremely nervous, not only because I hated standing on stage, but also because I was afraid people would laugh at my terrible singing. It felt like a kind of phobia. I ended up crying and quietly went back to my seat.
But as I grew older, things started to change.
In early 2021, I began playing the electric guitar. At first, I practiced by myself, but after a while I wanted to play with others and do something more meaningful with music. I heard that my church band was looking for a guitarist, so I asked the band leader if I could join—very unusual for someone like me, who had never wanted to be on stage before. To be honest, I wasn’t even good enough to play during a live service. But the band leader still let me join.
I made plenty of mistakes every week. Every Sunday, I was always nervous before going on stage. But this time, I didn’t run away from fear. I knew I wouldn’t grow if I kept avoiding challenges. I realized that achieving goals often comes with pain and discomfort.
Over time, I got better at guitar and became more comfortable performing in front of people. Now, I feel totally fine being in front of a crowd. That experience really changed me. Since then, I’ve tried to face challenges instead of avoiding them.
In the summer of 2023,I had the opportunity to go to England and help raise awareness about North Korea. A Christian organization invited me and some North Korean friends to speak to people in the UK about life in North Korea. My role was to translate their stories into English for the audience.
At one of the events, I was shocked by how many people were there. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of chairs. I had never spoken in front of such a large crowd before and I had to speak in English, not my first language. I was terrified. But I reminded myself that this was another opportunity to grow. I didn’t back down. I did my job and didn’t give up. I continued translating for two weeks as we traveled across England, helping North Korean refugees share their stories.
There was another reason I had to translate. I didn’t have much of my own story to share. I was born in North Korea, but I left when I was six years old, so I don’t remember much. But during this trip, I learned a lot more about North Korea. I also saw that many people around the world truly care about what’s happening there and I realized that I care, too.
This was the first time I used my language skills for something meaningful. It was the first time I spoke, not just for myself, but for North Korea.
Growing up, I never really realized that I was from North Korea. My mother didn’t want me to interact with other North Korean kids, and I didn’t have any of the typical traits of a North Korean refugee. The way I spoke and behaved was completely South Korean. I spoke fluent South Korean, and I just lived like everyone else around me.
It wasn’t until late 2020 that I met North Korean students for the first time at an alternative school in Seoul. It was quite interesting to meet people who were born in the same place as me, but I felt different from them. Most of them had arrived in South Korea during their late teenage years. They spoke with a North Korean accent and shared detailed memories of their lives in the North. But I had nothing to share. I didn’t remember anything from North Korea. I felt like a South Korean kid surrounded by North Koreans. I couldn’t relate to their stories at all.
That’s when I started to question my identity. Am I South Korean or North Korean?
But after my experience in the UK, I can now say with confidence that I am both. I am North and South Korean.
One meaningful moment was when I shared my mother’s story---how she escaped North Korea and survived in China. She had told me this story many times, but saying it out loud myself was very different. I could feel it more deeply. It wasn’t just something I had heard anymore, it became something I carried. I realized more clearly that I am from North Korea and that my mother went through many hardships. Telling the story helped me feel more connected to my background. North Korea started to feel closer, more real, and more personal.
Now, more than anything, I want to study and learn more about North Korea. The world needs to be aware of what is happening in the North. With increasing attention and focus from the outside, we will be able to take the first step toward unification. Even if unification doesn’t happen, it could lead to the opening of borders.
Since I speak both French and English, I have come to realize that I am able to use my language skills to let the world know about North Korea. I’ve already overcome my fear of speaking on stage. That fear used to hold me back, but not anymore. Now, I feel that I need to get ready to speak up for North Korea and help the world understand its people and stories.
I’ve lived as a South Korean and connected deeply with North Koreans. I understand both sides in a way that not many people can. That’s why I believe I can become a bridge between the two Koreas.
As I continue to grow, I will keep improving my language skills and keep learning so that one day, I can stand on the global stage and speak for the people of North Korea. I want to be someone who helps the world see them not as strangers, but as part of one family.
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Opportunities like LiNK’s Intensive English Program (LIEP) are helping North Koreans find their voice, reach their goals, and lead change on this issue. Your support can help us continue to make an impact in the lives of North Korean refugees, like Sean.
