Love and Dating ... in North Korea

This updated version of Love & Sex in North Korea was originally written by LiNK for Koreaboo.
According to historians who are really good at remembering when things happened in the olden days, sex and love existed before the Internet was even invented. Before 56K dial-up, phones, and even Tinder, humans found ways to interact completely offline and engage in sexual activity. In fact, biologists believe that the human proclivity for sex is universal and plays a major role in producing baby humans, thereby maintaining the human race’s existence. (Go humans!)
So could it be that in North Korea too, people have sex and fall in love and do romantic things with each other?
According to North Korean refugees that I’ve worked with, the answer is: Yes. North Koreans have sex too.

So, how do North Koreans do it?
First of all, the baseline to understand is that overall North Korean dating culture is pretty traditional and conservative. Think South Korea, but 50 years ago. One of the reasons for this is, well, North Korean society is quite conservative and patriarchal in general and North Korean media is super old-fashioned. In North Korean films you don’t see couples kissing or being physically affectionate with each other, so many North Koreans are just not used to PDA and wouldn’t dream of being too affectionate or kissing in public.
Nonetheless North Koreans do meet and date and fall in love like everywhere else. A lot of it starts in school (awww) and people also meet at dances or house parties. That’s right, when the parents are out of town young urban North Koreans will often invite a bunch of friends over and have a party. Once ‘the eyes have met’ the boy often has to do a lot of the pursuing. And guys, spare a thought for our brothers there: Only about 10% of North Koreans have a mobile phone. So for most, it has to be done the old fashioned way.
Either you have to pre-arrange to meet ‘10 trees away from the school gate at 7pm on Wednesday’ or you have to take the risk of going to their house. The danger, of course, is that you knock on the door and their mother answers, causing all that (traditional Asian) embarrassment. So a common trick is to knock and wait for someone to call out “Who is it?” If it’s the mother you say “I’ve come for Eun-kyung” (even though your girlfriend’s name is something else) and pretend you got the wrong house. If your girlfriend answers, then you can say, “It’s me! Come out!” Nicely done.

Finding a place to date isn’t so hard; people hang out in the park, or by the river, or around the market. But it’s when you need a bit more privacy that things get more difficult. The vast majority of young North Koreans live in their parents house until they get married (even more so than South Koreans) so there is no privacy at home. So when the relationship heats up, young couples will often go to the North Korean equivalent of a love motel, which is basically paying a middle-aged women to clear out of their own house for a few hours so the couple can get it on. A more risky space for a frisson might be a storage room with an unlocked door, or even a train toilet.
However, there’s a problem here...well, a few in fact. Sex education is almost non-existent in North Korea. And contraceptive pills and condoms can be hard to come by, too (you can’t just stop by the closest 24-hour convenience store). I have a friend who used to smuggle goods from China to sell in North Korea, and she says she saw a pregnancy test for the first time in 2007. She of course promptly smuggled some in to sell to North Korean women. This combination of factors unfortunately leads to a lot of unplanned pregnancies and risky abortions amongst unmarried women.
Like other aspects of North Korean culture, dating culture is not static. And as with other social changes, one of the major drivers is the influx of foreign media being smuggled in on DVDs and USB drives, and now even Micro-SD cards. In fact, one of the reasons South Korean dramas and films are so popular is because, in contrast to North Korean government-produced films, they show compelling human stories of love and relationships, and have addictive plotlines. If all you had access to was government propaganda your whole life and then suddenly you heard that your friends had access to this amazing new foreign stuff, you might risk watching it too.

In the first few viewings, these simple South Korean soaps can be revelatory: The PDA, the attitudes of the female characters, even the way they talk and dress. The love story in the Korean drama Winter Sonata, which is credited with starting the Korean Wave across Asia, is still remembered fondly by many North Korean refugees.
Similarly when My Sassy Girl was smuggled in many young women who watched it were driven to imitate not just Jeon Ji-hyun’s fashion and hairstyle, but also the confident and cool way in which her character treats her boyfriend. (And of course in the background of these films and dramas, North Korean viewers can’t help but notice that South Korea looks way richer than North Korea). These information changes are confounding economic changes in their effects on gender relations, as bottom-up marketization has raised the status of women as they play a key role in illegal and semi-legal entrepreneurial business activities.
Humans being humans, porn is also being smuggled into North Korea. And without getting too PG-13, it would be fair to assume that this also opens up and accelerates changes in behaviour between the sheets as well.
It’s worth noting that despite a big growth in flows of foreign media over the last 10 years it is still limited, and especially in the countryside and in the interior of the country away from the border with China, people have much less access (if at all). So there is huge regional variation in North Korea and dating culture will still be very traditional and conservative in the countryside, whilst changing rather quickly in Pyongyang and other major cities and border towns. In addition, young Pyongyangites also mostly have mobile phones now, meaning fewer nervous knocks on doors.

Because of the government’s ongoing restrictions on culture and extreme paranoia over foreign media, North Korea was late to the sexual revolution. But it is now happening, and it is no trivial matter. The emulation of dating culture learned through South Korean and other foreign media, particularly among young urban North Koreans, is contributing to increased sensitivity to foreign trends and a liberalization and modernization of culture and society from the bottom up. And in the long run, it’s this kind of social change that will help usher in a wider transformation and opening of North Korean society, to the benefit of the North Korean people and humanity as a whole.
--SOKEEL PARK - director of research and strategy
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.




