Most people I know entered the K-drama world through one name.

Lee Min-ho.

The universal oppa.

For many Indian girls around 2016–2017, the gateway was Boys Over Flowers.

Then came The Heirs.

Then The Legend of the Blue Sea.

That was the common pathway.

But mine was different.

I didn’t fall for Lee Min-ho first.

I fell for Playful Kiss.

And for Kim Hyun-joong as Baek Seung-jo.

The Girl Who Fell First

Playful Kiss was about two classmates:

Oh Ha-ni — cheerful, below-average in studies, hopelessly in love.

Baek Seung-jo — cold, brilliant, emotionally unavailable, annoyingly intelligent.

She confessed.

He corrected her spelling mistakes.

That was the beginning.

An earthquake destroys her house.

She and her father move into a family friend’s house.

That house happens to belong to Seung-jo’s family.

One roof.

One cold genius.

One stubborn girl in love.

Classic K-drama setup.

Why It Hooked Me

Everyone called him dashing in other dramas.

But I wasn’t drawn to perfection.

I was drawn to the tension.

To the slow burn.

To the “she fell first, but he fell harder” energy.

Even now, when I think about those days, I can feel that small butterfly sensation in my stomach.

The tone of their voices.

The slow glances.

The suppressed feelings.

I still blush a little.

Looking Back With Adult Eyes

Now, when I rewatch it, I see red flags.

Cold behavior.

Humiliation.

Emotional withholding.

Today I would probably label him emotionally unavailable.

But back then?

It felt magical.

Because beneath the coldness, he helped her grow.

He helped her study better.

He supported her career choices.

His family loved her.

They rooted for her.

It felt like:

If you want something badly enough,

the whole universe conspires to give it to you.

That belief stayed with me.

The Golden Era

2016 felt like the golden era of K-dramas.

Everything felt dreamy.

Intense.

Butterfly-inducing.

Now, K-dramas are more realistic.

More grounded.

More mature.

They don’t always give that exaggerated romance.

And maybe that’s growth.

Maybe we also changed.

The Expectation Trap

Let me be honest.

K-dramas set standards.

High standards.

The way male leads:

• Protect

• Support

• Respect

• Apologize

• Love consistently

It makes you wonder.

Because real life rarely looks like that.

And sometimes, we unknowingly compare.

But maybe that’s not a bad thing.

Maybe stories raise the emotional bar.

Maybe they remind us what kindness looks like.

K-Drama as Therapy

For me, K-drama wasn’t just entertainment.

It was therapy.

A soft escape.

A serotonin boost.

A space where love was intentional.

Even now, when life feels overwhelming,

I rewatch Playful Kiss.

Not for the plot.

For the feeling.

For the version of me who first watched it —

young, dreamy, hopeful.

Most people entered K-drama through Lee Min-ho.

I entered through stubborn Oh Ha-ni.

And somehow, I never left.