The Purple Papers by Christen
A personal essay series exploring how BTS became mirrors, teachers, and catalysts for healing, growth, and self-discovery.
Published April 13, 2026
The Conversations That Started It All
It started, like most meaningful things do, in small, ordinary moments — little conversations shared between a mother and daughter about music, about stories, about seven men from the other side of the world.
In the beginning, there wasn’t much gushing. There weren’t hours-long deep dives or dramatic declarations of fandom. It was simpler than that. I would send her a song — something from one of the many groups I was exploring when I first stumbled into K-pop. Most of them didn’t quite click. She’d listen, nod along, and then the song would end and she would move on with her day. But then came Slow Dancing. Something about that song flipped a switch.
It wasn’t just that she liked it — something in it moved her. Suddenly, she wasn’t just listening to a song I sent; she was asking for more. Then Singularity happened — and Taehyung’s voice sealed the deal. She fell in love with the depth and richness of it, the jazz influence mixed with R&B, and from that point forward, she wasn’t just on the outside looking in. She wanted to understand. She wanted to know them.
And then came Jungkook. She found Standing Next to You on her own — no recommendation from me, no casual nudge. Just curiosity leading her down a path that I had once walked alone. The similarities between him and Michael Jackson immediately pulled her in. That moment warmed me in a way I didn’t expect. It wasn’t about sharing my interests anymore; it was about watching her find joy in something for herself.
Now, she listens to BTS on her own — without reminders or prompts. She watches their videos, tunes into their lives with translations, and devours articles and fan edits she comes across online. She even sends them to me sometimes. BTS is no longer just my thing. They’re part of her everyday life too.
That’s when I realized something: I wasn’t just introducing her to a group I loved — we were building something together. These conversations, these songs, this shared curiosity — they were the foundation of something bigger than either of us had anticipated. Now, you can’t tell her those aren’t her boys! Each of them holds a special place in her heart and brings light to her life. I think her love for them goes as deep as her love for Michael — and that’s a lifelong love.
We had no idea where this shared curiosity would lead us. At first, it was just fun — a way to connect, to share, to learn together. But the more we talked, the more it felt like there was something deeper here. Something worth exploring out loud. And then an idea formed and we started to ask ourselves: what if we didn’t just talk about BTS with each other? What if we shared those conversations with the world?
The Leap Into the Unknown
From that point, something in me lit up. I started ignoring the fear and doubts and dove headfirst into learning how to start a podcast. I read articles, watched YouTube videos, compared equipment and distribution platforms. We brainstormed potential names, and I designed our logo. And just like that, a brand was born.
I even created our social media accounts before I had any idea what they would look like. What started as a simple conversation was slowly becoming a reality. We discussed the kind of content we wanted to share and how we might promote our episodes.
We’d figure it out eventually — the most important thing was just getting started. We recorded our intro episode, and I uploaded it as a draft, still not 100% sure I was ready for this. But then, there we were at my niece’s gymnastics competition, and I was hovering over the PUBLISH button. I don’t even remember making the decision — I just tapped it. Suddenly, confetti filled the screen with a “CONGRATULATIONS!” banner. It was too late to second-guess. Our episode was out there. We were out there.
We leapt — accidentally, but a jump is a jump.
We shared the links with family and friends and waited for feedback… but it never came. Most of the people we knew weren’t really interested in BTS, so they didn’t listen. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t sting at first. But over time, I learned not to take it personally. I started to see the beauty in our slow, steady growth. This was how things started, right?
Self-promotion has never been my strength, and the thought of having to “market” myself felt daunting. I wasn’t sure how to do it authentically — I’m still not, if we’re being honest. All I knew was that I wanted to show up as us. Real. Honest. Sincere.