About the name Hazel

I've been using the pseudonym Hazel for the past few years, ever since I started learning English and aspired to work in a global environment. To be 100% honest, I didn’t always embrace my Korean background. I was running away—from my homeland, my history, my insecurities, family issues, and all the problems that weighed on me.

Back in Seoul, I would attend language exchange events to immerse myself in English-speaking environments. One day, I met a Russian girl who suggested I use the name Hazel. She thought it suited me because of my nutty-toned hair and my love for the movie The Fault in Our Stars—or as it’s known in Korea, "Hi, Hazel (안녕, 헤이즐)." Plus, it sounded similar to my Korean name. That was nearly 10 years ago, and I began using Hazel more practically when I lived in Canada, working with native English speakers. It also made things easier for people who found my real name hard to remember or spell.

About the name Hyeji

My real name is Hyeji(혜지). I used to think it was just an okay name—nothing too special, just average. But thank goodness my dad didn’t name me Jihye, which is incredibly common in Korea. Still, I didn’t particularly like how my name sounded with my family name, Song. In Korea, the family name comes first, so it’s "Song Hyeji."

But when I started contemplating "Song" as a family name written the other way around, I realized how cool it is. Everything becomes a song! I’m a Song—Hazel Song and Hyeji Song. It makes my name feel so musical and artistic.

My name is composed of the Korean Chinese characters "慧, 지혜혜" (wisdom) and "志, 뜻지" (meaning or will). It wasn’t until my late 20s that I started thinking deeply about these characters. I’ve always been a deep thinker (at least I like to think so). When I was 20, I even nicknamed my Naver blog “Kid Philosopher.” But on my 30th birthday, I had a revelation—my name is my life. I’m growing wiser as I search for the meaning of my life, or perhaps I’m searching for meaning through wisdom. There are so many meaningful connections in my name.

And it’s a f*cking cool name!

After this realization, I called my dad and asked, “Why did you give me this name?” He replied, “Because it sounds pretty.”

Okay, that’s superficial—but whatever. I love my name now, after years of rejecting myself. Embracing my whole self was hard because I didn’t know much about myself, and I harbored so much hatred for my background as a Korean (and as a person too).

This journey of self-acceptance has been part of my healing process, addressing childhood wounds and family issues. I’m finally beginning to accept myself as a whole—not that it’s finished. It’s a lifelong journey to practice acceptance, and it’s taken me 30 years to get here.

They’ll remember, if they care

I have a great friend, Azad, from Canada. He’s one of the most purposeful people I’ve ever met. His priority was always building community in Bali, and he would schedule every hour of his day to align with his goals. I noticed how he put extra effort into remembering people’s names, often coming up with similar-sounding words to help him. I believe this came from his favorite book, How to Win Friends and Influence People, which he kept on his motorbike and read every day.

As a UX designer, it’s easy to fall into the mindset that we must make everything easier for the user. But reality is more complex than that. I used to think I had to make things easier for others, even if it meant changing myself.

But the truth is, I don’t have to change my identity for others. It’s not my responsibility to make my name easier to remember. If someone truly wants to get to know you, they’ll find a way to remember your name.

Embracing Hyeji again

My journey back to embracing "Hyeji" has been deeply connected with how I’ve lived, healed from trauma, and spent years reflecting. It’s taken a lot of practice to accept myself fully. Moving from Hazel back to Hyeji symbolizes this journey—of returning to my roots, understanding who I am, and finding peace with it.

Every step I’ve taken, every bit of healing I’ve done, has brought me closer to accepting my true self. Now, I proudly carry the name Hyeji, not as a label I’ve had to live with, but as a reflection of the person I’ve become. It’s not just a name—it’s a testament to the strength and wisdom I’ve gained through my journey of self-acceptance.