From strict military routines to steamy pools of vulnerability, here’s what surprised me most inside Korea’s 목욕탕
The Naked Truth - Dropping Uniforms and All Inhibitions
In the Army, I lived in a uniform—physically, mentally, emotionally.
Then I walked into a Korean 목욕탕 (bathhouse),
and the first thing I had to let go of? Everything.
There’s no towel-wrapping, no hiding behind stalls—
just naked strangers, full exposure, and no one batting an eye.
It was uncomfortable at first,
but strangely, it became liberating.
No ranks, no gear, no pretenses—just people.
Hot, Cold, Repeat - The Unexpected Science of Soaking
In military life, showers were quick, utilitarian, and cold when unlucky.
Korea introduced me to a different rhythm:
scalding hot tubs, icy plunge pools, and the ritual of alternation.
I thought it was just for relaxation—
but the benefits? Real.
Better sleep, faster muscle recovery, even clearer skin.
It felt like self-care on a biological level—no prescription needed.
Communal Healing - Strangers, Scrubs, and Surprising Brotherhood
The ajusshi with the scrub mitt wasn’t just exfoliating my back.
He was dismantling years of isolation.
In the military, touch is clinical, functional.
In a 목욕탕, it was human, communal, even caring.
There’s something about sweating beside strangers,
taking turns in the sauna, sharing silence
that builds a wordless kind of trust—
one I hadn’t felt since my days in the field.
From Military Showers to Mokyoktang - How My Routine Was Rewired
Post-Army, I treated showers like another chore.
But after my first few weeks in Korea,
I found myself seeking out bathhouses not just for hygiene—
but for clarity.
It wasn’t just about washing.
It was about resetting, both mentally and physically.
I’d gone from scrubbing off sand to soaking in stillness.
Lessons in Letting Go - What Korean Bathhouses Taught Me About Vulnerability
Military culture teaches you to harden up.
Korean bathhouses taught me to soften.
To sit quietly, naked and unranked,
beside a stranger twice my age
and feel no need to perform or compete—
that was healing in a way boot camp never offered.
In the steam, I found something I didn’t know I’d lost:
permission to simply be.