Rebuilding My Self-Worth
After her lupus diagnosis and painful changes in her life, Yujin Kim felt as though everything she had built was slipping away. Through perseverance and support from her Soka Gakkai community, she found the courage to rebuild her life—this time with greater strength and compassion.
In 2020, my life changed dramatically when I was diagnosed with lupus. For years, I had been experiencing extreme fatigue, joint pain and body aches but hadn’t been able to identify the cause.
Lupus is an invisible illness because the people who live with it often look fine on the outside while facing constant battles inside. It is an autoimmune disease, which means my own immune system, which is meant to protect me, attacks my body instead. This causes inflammation and can damage joints and organs such as the skin, kidneys and the heart.
Lupus is an invisible illness . . . people who live with it often look fine on the outside.
Lupus is unpredictable: one day I might feel okay, and the next day, I could be very unwell or completely drained of energy. And since there’s no cure, managing lupus means ongoing treatment, constant monitoring and learning to live with uncertainty.
Shortly after my diagnosis, my six-year relationship ended, and the COVID lockdown began. I was also unhappy with my job. I had been hired as a software engineer but found myself handling multiple IT projects as well.
Struggling with Self-Hatred
I felt like my entire life was collapsing. Not only was I living with a chronic illness I also felt heartbroken from the end of my relationship and the pressure of my job was pushing me to my limits.
That’s when my inner struggles truly began.
I started to hate everything: my job, the environment, even the decisions I had made. But more than anything, I hated myself.
For the first time in my life, I couldn’t love myself, and it was awful.
Before, I’d been clear about what I wanted. I took full responsibility for my choices and lived without regrets. But during this period, I started questioning everything. What if I had never moved to New Zealand would I have been healthier? What if I had never entered that relationship? What if I had quit my job earlier?
The most painful part was losing trust in myself. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but because I had made those choices, it felt like everything was my fault. My confidence shattered and my self-esteem hit rock bottom.
For the first time in my life, I couldn’t love myself, and it was awful.
“Let’s Respect and Love Ourselves”
Chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo helped me to hold myself together and make it through each day. It wasn’t living; it was surviving.
I opened up to some other Soka Gakkai members, sharing how much I had lost and how deeply I was struggling with self-hatred. They responded with heartfelt encouragement, by telling me that I was a wonderful, amazing person, that we are all Buddhas, worthy of respect. “Let’s respect and love ourselves,” they said.
I wrote down these words of encouragement, chanted with them in front of me every day and reminded myself again and again that “Yes, I am a Buddha. I have immeasurable worth.”
Progress was slow and painful, but daily chanting and the members’ encouragement helped me regain my courage and wisdom even in the midst of darkness.
A Difficult Decision
Just as I was beginning to rebuild myself, I received the devastating news that my mother had been diagnosed with stage two gastric cancer. Her surgery to remove a part of her stomach had been scheduled.
My family opposed my return home to South Korea because my compromised immune system and immunosuppressant medication made me extremely vulnerable to infection. Additionally, strict COVID protocols at the hospital prevented family visits. Even if I had flown home, I couldn’t have provided in-person care. Considering these realities, I made the difficult decision not to go back.
Once again, I felt completely powerless. I was desperate to support my mother, to hold her hand, to simply be there, but I couldn’t.
Just a day before the operation, the doctor decided to perform a total removal of my mother’s stomach instead of a partial one. The surgery was turning into something far more extensive than we had expected. On the day of the surgery, I chanted until the surgery was over. Those were the most painful hours of my life.
Once again, I felt completely powerless. I was desperate to support my mother, to hold her hand, to simply be there, but I couldn’t. I felt like I had failed as a daughter and hated myself for not being able to protect the person who had always protected me.
The guilt was crushing, and I couldn’t stop blaming myself.
My Struggles in a New Light
During this difficult time, a quote from President Daisaku Ikeda struck me deeply:
“Without having cried, you cannot genuinely laugh; without having suffered, you cannot savor real joy. I am sure there are times when, in the midst of some difficulty, you think ‘Why me?’ But that in fact is your chance to fulfil the mission you have chosen.”
These words awakened something in me. Perhaps this suffering wasn’t just random misfortune but rather an opportunity to develop the strength and wisdom I would need in my life, my unique mission. With this perspective, I could begin to see my challenges not as punishment but as opportunities for profound growth and karmic transformation.
I could begin to see my challenges not as punishment but as opportunities for profound growth and karmic transformation.
I felt lost with how to create positive change in my life, but through chanting Nam-myoho-renge-kyo, the answer became clear: I should focus on what I could actually change through my own efforts. With that clarity, I decided to change my career path and return to software engineering.
However, my confidence was so low—I even couldn’t bring myself to update my CV. I chanted with the clear goal to have the courage to apply for jobs, join a team that would support my growth and development, work with good people and to see progress by November 18—Soka Gakkai founding day—a significant day to me as a Soka Gakkai member.
I also committed to studying new technologies for two hours every evening after my full-time job. I did this for eight months while dealing with chronic illness. There were many nights when I wanted to give up, but I persevered. There were no shortcuts.
In November, I finally started applying for jobs and received a job offer at the end of the month.
Strengthened by Support
Throughout this journey, the care from fellow Soka Gakkai members was my foundation. When I couldn’t believe in myself, they believed in me. When my voice was too weak to chant, they chanted alongside me. Their encouragement wasn’t just kind words, it was their hearts in action. I felt their earnest wish for my happiness and success. Without their sincere support, phone calls and messages, I wouldn’t have found the courage to face each day during my difficult times.
In time, my mother recovered, and she is now doing well. We were even able to take a trip around South Korea together, a journey I couldn’t have imagined during her illness.
My new workplace has turned out to be a great environment for me. It is filled with amazing, accomplished people who are also supportive. I’ve learned so much from my colleagues and the way they put people first. Over the last three years, I’ve grown significantly in the tech industry, receiving multiple promotions and finding true joy in what I do each day.
In 2024, I received the great news that I had been selected as a finalist for a technology awards program that recognizes women in the field. It was a big surprise. The organization supports women’s growth in the tech industry through professional development, mentorship and networking. Being nominated by my workplace and chosen as a finalist was very meaningful to me. I went on to win the award in my category.
A New Appreciation of Life
Looking back on these past few years, I can see how long I struggled and also how far I’ve come.
Through my struggles, I’ve come to deeply understand the weight of living with a chronic illness, not just the symptoms but the constant uncertainty, pain and emotional burden. I’ve also become more empathetic toward those facing family hardships or uncertain careers, situations that I couldn’t fully grasp before.
Today, I still battle with my illness, but I’ve developed a different relationship with it. Rather than seeing it as my enemy, I recognize it as part of my journey, teaching me patience, how to care for my health and to truly appreciate being able to live a normal day.
Adapted from the July 2025 issue of Buddhism in Focus, SGINZ.