“I’m (a very young) 72-year-old from Northern Ireland who lives in Italy. During COVID I discovered Korea, obviously through K-Dramas,” the first email said. The second began like this: “I am an 84 (eighty-four)-year-old woman who has fallen into the K-pop/BTS rabbit hole and am hopelessly smitten with the particularly beautiful relationship between JungKook and Kim Taehyung. I have been deeply depressed with my new life since the death of my husband two years ago, and when I somehow discovered BTS on YouTube, I was able to really lose myself in a joy of a kind of love that I had never known.”

That was just in the past week. I have received countless emails like this. I’ve also met many of the people sending them. We get coffee, lunch, or they come and see my lectures. During dinner on Thursday, I spoke with Cristina, an Italian woman who has had a similar experience. Our conversation about the latest dramas, the fascination with the fashion, and the curiosity about the culture led me to a simple question: What is it about Korea that enthralls mid-life women from abroad?

It’s easy to associate Korea with youth. We think of K-pop and Korean beauty and our mind races towards besotted teenagers swooning over the six-packs of idols. We imagine a new type of Beatlemania and adolescents spending outrageous amounts of time and money stanning their idols into global fandom. And there’s a lot of truth in those depictions and demographics. But, at the same time, there’s a whole other audience. Middle-aged and even elderly women (I know I might get in trouble for using those terms) who have had something akin to a reawakening or rebirth by falling in love with Korea.

“So what is it?” I asked Cristina as the samgyeopsal sizzled among the garlic.

A warm hug

Divorce or death of a partner can certainly be one of the triggers. Korea becomes a second life. Something new, removed, guilt-free. It allows people to love again. And, perhaps most importantly because Korean content is comfort based, to love themselves. A warm hug, almost.

My Lebanese friend Rania Hafez describes Korea as her Narnia. A portal into an entirely new world, full of magic, mysteries, and more excitement than her mind could have imagined. And, instead of finding it at the back of a cupboard, she found it online. On Netflix, YouTube, and Instagram. Like many, she also found it during Covid: a period in time when uncertainty reigned and anxiety gripped us.

Education also plays a role. These women have often spent decades devoting their life to a family, often sacrificing a career or education, so Korea becomes a way to learn again. To grow. To discover new ideas and, at the same time, new things about themselves. Exploring Korea is like going back to university or night school in your 50s. There’s a whole language, culture, and history that is waiting to be explored. Every day brings something new. Rather than the tired and repetitive politics of their own country, marked by exploitative figures, and increasing polarization, there’s the wonderful discovery of shamanism, haenyeo, nunchi, pansori, and everything else. The world feels positive. Rich in culture and tradition.

And when it does slowly unfold, it presents an internally consistent universe filled with words and themes that reveal themselves across different mediums. The phrase you hear in a drama then appears in Han Kang’s latest book, pops up in Jimin’s solo track, and gets used in the president’s speech. It’s lore. Just like you find in “Game of Thrones” or the Marvel universe. And here, the easter eggs are not only never ending, they are actually real. The Korea that people see in dramas and movies actually exists. The streets are waiting to be walked. The buses need to be ridden. The bibimbap eaten at temples.

With that lore and fandom then comes the community. The media is quick to highlight the fans who break into apartments and stalk celebrities, but through a love of Korean culture, women create and build friendships they would never have found elsewhere. Relationships are formed online and then can quickly develop into real friendships, touring the country, sharing coffee.

On such tours and visits to Korea, age then becomes a help rather than a hindrance. At 18, there might have been a fear of the unknown. The outside world carried a certain element of risk for the woman travelling alone. At 48, however, confidence and experience brings with it the desire to approach strangers on the street, to strike up conversations on the subway, and to chat with the people next to you at the fried chicken joint.

Personal space

My friend Elizabeth lives in the Netherlands but visits Korea regularly. She described her own journey in some detail. Emerging from the brain fog of successfully raising children, she was ready for something new. To reclaim a sense of joy and personal space beyond the tedium of mortgages and office politics.

She pointed me towards Tabitha Carvan’s book “This is not a Book about Benedict Cumberbatch” which makes the claim that pure leisure for women is nothing less than a courageous and subversive act of resistance. A deliberate choice to carve out non-purposive time just for themselves.

Sue Devine then told me how much she enjoys the fact that Korean content is written by women. It stars women. It talks about women. And it’s made for women. It passes the Bechdel test with far more frequency than British or American content and that provides an emotional weight that resonates.

Of course, there’s also the beauty of the male idols. They are manufactured, yes, but they nevertheless do it so perfectly. What better conduit, therefore, for a woman to revisit all the passion and lust they had as teenagers for David Essex, Simon Le Bon, Barry Gibb, or George Michael. Elizabeth made me laugh when she said that fawning over Park Bo-gum or Yoongi was much more fun and far far safer than having a crush on Mike from accounts or the hot dad at the school gates.

Korea is cool

One thing that should not be neglected from all this is just how lovely the people of Korea actually are. When you visit the country, sit in the restaurants, talk to the ladies at the coffee shop, and ask the monk what the paintings in the temple mean, you will find a population of warm-hearted people willing to take the time to listen, teach, learn, and converse with you.

Everyone that has fallen in love with Korea will likely say the same thing: it’s the people. The culture, the music, the literature, the food, and so many other things can draw you in. But it’s the people of Korea that are the true treasure of this land. The heart and the soul. The connection.

So Korea is like a mirror, a map, and sometimes even a second chance. For those who discover it later in life, it doesn’t erase the years already lived. It proves that joy, love, and wonder are not bound by age. Hallyu may start with Yoongi’s smile or a drama binge, but for many women, it becomes something deeper: a rediscovery of self, of community, and of the beauty in the world.