Living in Chicago sometimes brings about a strange feeling that is hard to put into words.

Our home in Cook County is an apartment, but it's just right for my husband and son, and when I cook in the kitchen and the steam rises from the rice cooker, even the not-so-large space feels cozy. But as soon as I open the door and step outside, that warmth disappears in an instant, and the city's unique chill seeps into my chest.

If it were just about the winter wind, that would be fine, but here, it feels like not only the weather but also the people have a low temperature, which sometimes makes my heart sink.

It's an annual occurrence to see heavy snow and feel the fierce winds from Lake Michigan. However, the atmosphere in the elevator where no one wants to make eye contact, the cashier who pushes items without a greeting, and the moments when shoulders bump on the street without an apology feel particularly cold.

Even a light comment like "Isn't it cold today?" that I used to make in Korea feels heavy and difficult to say here.

Even if living in the city is a way for each person to endure, sometimes I feel like I become too small a presence amidst that indifference.

When I encounter other parents in front of my child's school, the time spent standing silently with an awkward smile stretches on. Everyone seems focused on their own tasks, living while conserving their emotions, making me hesitant to approach first.

Then one day, when my child comes home, drops their bag, and quietly says, "I didn't play much with my friends today," at that moment, it feels like the cold air of the city seeps into our home, tightening my heart. My child quickly moves on to another topic, but I wonder if the city's chill is also reaching my child's heart. Even if we try to be warmer, I worry that the cold wind from outside might seep into our hearts at some point.

But I can't just hate this city. There's a strange charm hidden behind that loneliness. Walking slowly around the Chicago River, instead of loneliness, I feel a calm freedom between the wind and the waves. No one pays attention to me, but amidst that indifference, I sometimes feel like I have my own space.

This city doesn't extend a friendly hand to anyone, but instead teaches me how to stand firm so that when I reach out and create a space, it won't easily shake. Even without someone looking out for me, I develop a living sense of choosing for myself and protecting myself. It's like the cold but solid wind is gradually making me stronger.

So, Chicago sometimes appears to be a harsh city, yet it strangely becomes a place of obsession. It's hard to settle down, but once you do, it makes it difficult to leave. The wall-like wind seems to block me, yet at times it feels like the city is pushing me forward. Here, no one caresses my emotions, but thanks to that, I am learning how to take care of my own heart.