You. Get Married.
- DUO AMERICA

- Jul 30
- 3 min read

Recently, I started reading Free Food for Millionaires.
As I turned each page, the story felt surprisingly familiar.
The hopes, struggles, and emotions of immigrant families in the novel reminded me of so many Korean American families I've met through my work.
For many first-generation Korean immigrant parents, the dream has always been the same.
They came to America hoping their children would have opportunities they never had.
They worked tirelessly, overcame language barriers, and sacrificed countless hours so their children could receive the best education and build a better future.
When their son or daughter was accepted into a top university, many parents told me it was one of the happiest moments of their lives.
Then naturally, another dream followed.
"I hope my child finds a stable career, meets a wonderful partner, and builds a happy family."
But life doesn't always unfold the way parents imagine.
Graduating from a prestigious university doesn't guarantee the perfect job.
And having a successful career doesn't necessarily mean marriage becomes the next priority.
Many second-generation Korean Americans grow up surrounded by different cultures and perspectives.
Through school, work, and friendships, they naturally develop their own views on relationships, marriage, and happiness.
As a result, what parents define as "success" and what their children define as "happiness" don't always point in the same direction.
Parents often hope their children will build a stable career and a loving family.
Their children, on the other hand, often see marriage as one of many meaningful choices while pursuing their own dreams.
Almost every day, I receive calls from concerned parents.
"My son is already in his thirties and has no interest in marriage."
"How can I help my daughter become more open to meeting someone?"
During consultations, parents often show me photos of their children.
Childhood pictures, graduation photos, family vacations...
As they tell me their stories, one feeling always shines through.
"I just don't want my child to be alone after I'm gone."
It isn't about pressure.
It's about love.
It's about hoping their child will one day find someone to walk through life with.
Interestingly, conversations with their adult children often feel very different.
Most second-generation members are open, thoughtful, and honest.
They enjoy talking about relationships, their future, and what they value most.
Yet many end the conversation with a familiar sentence.
"I'm just not interested right now."
Neither generation is wrong.
They simply grew up in different worlds.
Recently, I received a call from a second-generation Korean American woman I had worked with several years ago.
She told me she had unexpectedly reconnected with her college roommate, who was preparing for her wedding.
Her fiancé wasn't someone with an extraordinary background.
He had come to the United States from Korea after middle school, built his life through hard work, and now had a stable career in public service.
What impressed her most wasn't his résumé.
It was the comfort, understanding, and emotional connection they shared through similar cultural experiences.
What touched me even more was how they met.
Her roommate had initially joined a matchmaking service because of her father's recommendation.
She admitted she had been hesitant at first.
But over time, meeting new people became an enjoyable experience rather than a burden.
She began sharing her dating experiences with her parents, talking openly about each introduction and each conversation.
Those discussions gradually brought them closer together.
Smiling, she said,
"At first, I didn't understand why my parents wanted me to try a matchmaking service. But eventually I realized it wasn't about pressure. It was simply another opportunity to meet good people."
That conversation reminded me of something important.
For many Korean Americans living across the United States, naturally meeting another Korean who shares similar values, language, and cultural experiences isn't always easy.
Busy schedules, long distances, and limited social circles can make meaningful connections difficult.
Sometimes, creating opportunities intentionally is simply another way of opening a new chapter in life.
A matchmaking service isn't about rushing someone into marriage.
It's about creating opportunities to meet people you might never have crossed paths with otherwise.
Perhaps that's why she reached out again years later.
She wanted to tell me that opening herself to new possibilities had changed the course of someone's life.
So today, I say this gently.
You. Get married.
Not today.
Not tomorrow.
Not because someone else expects you to.
Simply don't close the door to the possibility of meeting someone wonderful.
Sometimes, the relationship that changes your life begins the moment you're willing to open the door.
Jennifer Lee
Team Manager



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