The Book That Hit Harder Than Expected (Thanks, Namjoon).
I was (am?) a full-blown BTS fangirl not the casual kind. The deep dive kind. The “watching behind-the-scenes clips at 3am and crying over lyrics I don’t fully understand in Korean” kind.
I followed them on social media, read translations of their interviews, and during the Love Yourself era when everything felt raw and beautiful, Namjoon recommended a book that made me pause:
“The Unbearable Lightness of Being,” by Milan Kundera.
I’d never heard of it before. But something about the title felt… poetic? Painful? So I picked it up.
And I’ll be honest: it took me a while to get through. It’s not an easy read. But it left something in me that hasn’t really left since.
Kundera keeps asking this haunting question:
If life only happens once, and never repeats… does that make it light, because it’s fleeting?
Or heavy, because every choice carries infinite weight?
Why It Wrecked Me (In a Quiet Way)
I thought it would be a dramatic love story. But it turned out to be about something messier, the unbearable contradictions of being alive.
Lightness vs. heaviness. Freedom vs. commitment. Flesh vs. soul. The desire to escape, and the aching to belong.
Reading it felt like someone was whispering thoughts I’ve had but never voiced out loud thoughts I didn’t even know I was allowed to have.
5 Things That Stayed With Me
We Only Live Once, So Does Anything Really Matter?
Kundera calls it “the unbearable lightness” this idea that life is so fleeting and unrepeatable that it becomes almost weightless. Like… does it even matter what we do?
At first, that thought scared me. But later, it felt oddly freeing. If nothing lasts, maybe I don’t have to carry so much guilt, pressure, or perfectionism. Maybe I can just be.
Love Isn’t Always Romantic, Sometimes It’s a Need for Meaning
Tereza clings to Tomas not just out of passion, but because she wants her life to mean something. He, on the other hand, wants freedom.
It made me question: when I love someone, is it them I love or what they represent? Security? Escape? Proof that I’m not alone?
Sex and Intimacy Aren’t the Same
There’s so much casual sex in the book but very little intimacy. The characters are physically close, but emotionally fractured.
That contrast hit me hard. Especially in a world that sometimes treats love like a convenience. The book asked me to look at my own patterns and it didn’t always feel good.
Being Free Can Feel Like Floating
Sabina, the artist, rejects everything home, roots, loyalty. She chooses freedom over everything. But eventually, her life starts to feel like a string of beautiful escapes with nowhere to land.
Freedom is sexy. But so is being known.
Some People We Carry Forever, Even After They’re Gone
There’s a scene toward the end that’s so simple but gutted me. I won’t spoil it. But it reminded me that not everything needs to be loud or dramatic to leave a mark. Sometimes, it’s the softest things that last.
So… Is This Book for You?
You might connect with it if:
- You love novels that make you feel slightly existential
- You’ve ever been torn between independence and intimacy
- You enjoy reading things that leave you asking questions, not finding answers
- You’re okay with not liking every character (or even understanding them)
You might not love it if:
- You want a clear plot or happy ending
- You don’t vibe with philosophical detours in fiction
- You’re not into ambiguity (this book lives in it)
Final Thoughts
Namjoon didn’t just recommend a book, he handed me a mirror. Not one that shows who I am, exactly… but one that asks:
What are you carrying that you don’t need? And what are you trying to escape that might actually be calling you home?
This book doesn’t hand out answers. But it makes you feel less alone in the asking.
In a world that tells us to chase clarity and purpose, The Unbearable Lightness of Being reminded me that sometimes, it’s okay to live in the questions. To hold contradictions. To feel both heavy and light and not force them to make sense.
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