As we move through 2025, the rapid rise of self-media and constant noise has allowed anxiety driven by utilitarian thinking to quietly seep into many people’s inner worlds. Along with it, we can sense a growing sharpness—an undercurrent of hostility that feels heavier than before.
In the past, YULYNK has shared much of our gentle goodwill with our community. Yet one topic we have rarely addressed is how to recognize malice that arrives wrapped in softness. We believe that responding to malice is not instinctive—it is a skill that can be learned.
We feel it is important to say this clearly and sincerely to those who walk alongside us: whenever someone—especially someone we do not feel close to—makes us feel uneasy or uncomfortable, we may already be encountering this subtle, easily overlooked form of malice. These people are not only strangers; they may be colleagues we barely know, or voices offering “well-intentioned advice” that wears a gentle mask. In our view, this can be a kind of psychological intrusion. True kindness always leaves behind a sense of warmth and affirmation. If it doesn’t, it is worth paying attention.
There is a thought we deeply agree with: any advice given to women is advice women are free to refuse. Often, those who offer such words are simply seeking an emotional reaction. At these moments, awareness is essential. Do not give even a fragment of your precious emotional energy to those who are irrelevant to your life. Indifference, distance, and quiet composure are often enough to leave malice with nowhere to land.
You do not need to persuade yourself to forgive prematurely. Sometimes, malice exists precisely because others assume you will forgive it. Kindness is never a weakness to be exploited—it is a rare form of energy that deserves protection and should be reserved for those who truly value it. When necessary, and when the time is right, responding with clarity and firmness can also be an act of self-respect.
We do not encourage hostility. But we believe deeply in protecting one’s inner world—choosing comfort without apology, holding boundaries with calm confidence, and letting what we care about, and how we live, support that sense of ease.
May we learn to offer our gentleness only where it is met with respect, and to move through the world with steadiness rather than strain. In choosing warmth, comfort, and care, we are not retreating—we are choosing a way to remain whole, and to step forward into the days ahead with clarity and grace.