10 Things I Didn’t Expect to Get Used to at Kellogg
By: Jinwon Seo
Just like that, two years flew by.
Honestly, I feel like I’m still the same person I was before. I still make the same coffee every morning, listen to 2000s playlists on repeat, and battle Chicago wind every day.
But maybe the change happened in smaller ways than I expected.
Before Kellogg, for example, I wasn’t as comfortable with the “TBDs (To-be-Determined)” in my life—the unanswered questions, unclear plans, and constantly shifting versions of how things were supposed to look. Somewhere between nonstop recruiting cycles, delayed flights, and endless group chats, I think I slowly started to appreciate the uncertainty I once resisted.
This piece is for those who feel like they’re in the same boat—confused, a bit empty, and maybe even a little disappointed, as if the MBA was supposed to transform us into someone completely different. Sometimes, it just helps to notice the small ways we’ve changed along the way.
So let me start with my reflections: here are 10 unexpected things that I got used to—and that, together, made me feel more complete.
1. Having 5+ different versions of “tell me about yourself”: For a while, I felt like I needed one “right” version of my story—something consistent, polished, easy to repeat. But over time, I stopped trying to compress everything into one narrative and started answering more honestly depending on the moment. I realized I’m not just one thing. I can care about consulting, investing, and entrepreneurship—and still be the same, complete person.
2. Answering “What do you want to do after graduation?” at least three times a day: There was a time when saying a goal out loud felt terrifying, almost like it became legally binding the second I mentioned it in an interview or networking chat. Now I’ve become much more comfortable letting goals evolve. Who cares whether or not they actually happen exactly as planned anyway?
3. Walking into a room where I don’t know anyone: Still slightly uncomfortable. I’ll usually get coffee first, take a deep breath, and somehow start talking about the weather or neighborhood like it’s breaking news. And if things get too overwhelming, there’s always the bathroom for a quick reset. But I’ve learned unfamiliar rooms don’t stay unfamiliar for very long if I stay in them long enough.
4. Getting asked “Which Korea are you from?”: At first, I genuinely thought this was one of those questions that would rarely come up. Turns out, I was wrong (again). Over time, I became less focused on the question itself and more focused on giving people the same openness and curiosity that I hope to receive when learning about cultures different from my own.
5. Being the only East Asian woman in the room: The diversity of a room is usually one of the first things I start to notice when entering a new space. There were definitely moments where I felt hyper-visible or out of place. But eventually, I stopped waiting for that feeling to disappear and focused more on how I wanted to show up—not by blending in, but by letting myself be known in my own way.
6. Realizing that “strong communication” looks different to everyone: One thing I didn’t expect was how differently people define “strong communication.” Some people value concise and direct answers, others focus more on tone and presence, and some care most about the bigger picture. Along the way, I got used to being misunderstood more times than I can count—and learned how to adapt my communication and still get my point across.
7. Making big life decisions through calendar invites: As a long-distance couple, my husband and I would literally block off two-hour calendar invites just to talk about our future. Somehow, some of our biggest life decisions (including wedding planning) happened in between classes, meetings, and airport rides. It never really felt planned, but it worked in a very us way.
8. Booking expensive flights at unreasonable hours: Not always logical. Definitely not financially responsible. But I eventually learned that between last-minute changes and unpredictable calendars, it was easier to pay more sometimes than to keep waiting for a “perfect” schedule that never really showed up.
9. Staying home on a Friday night and not feeling like I missed anything: After running into 50 different people at the Hub, back-to-back meetings, workouts by the lake, staying home with a bag of Lays and green tea mochi ice cream watching Grey’s Anatomy (again) feels less like missing out and more like finally slowing down enough to take everything in.
10. Feeling tired but still showing up for people I met less than two years ago: This is probably the most unexpected one. I used to think friendships had some sort of expiration—that once recruiting ended or graduation came closer, people would naturally drift apart. So for a while, part of me wondered if it even made sense to invest this much time and energy into relationships here. But despite all the conversations around “networking” and “business relationships,” there are people here who somehow feel strangely familiar—like we’ve known each other much, much longer.
One of my Kellogg friends once said, “I feel like I met you in high school,” and honestly, I knew exactly what they meant. And I think that’s what I’ve come to appreciate most—getting to watch each of us grow and rebuild ourselves over the past two years.
As you can tell, I am not leaving Kellogg as a brand-new person.
But these small shifts—stronger tolerance for ambiguity, deeper awareness of differences in people and perspectives, intentional self-care, and genuine connections (without an expiration date)—have added up over time. They didn’t change who I am, but they changed how I sit with uncertainty today.
And I’m beginning to realize this is what I’m taking with me from Kellogg—not concrete answers, but a different way of moving forward: staying open to what the “TBDs” can become. Read Parting Notes from the Class of 2026:
