Who Stole My Pork Belly?

I was born into a name that was never just a name. It was a legacy-weighted with duty, burnished by reputation, and bound by silence. I was taught to guard it at any cost. Yet behind those carefully tended walls, kindness was scarce, and protection was nowhere to be found.

This book is my reckoning with that inheritance-the unraveling of what was handed down to me and the quiet, resolute work of deciding what I would carry forward. It is the story of stepping out from beneath a name and learning, at last, to stand on my own.

What sustained me were not grand gestures, but small mercies: the steady comfort of a simple meal on a hushed morning, the gentle stillness of evening tea warming my hands in a pale celadon cup, and a deep, unwavering tenderness for those the world so often overlooks-the voiceless, the forgotten. That devotion became my compass, shaping my choices, strengthening my resilience, and guiding me toward freedom.

In the end, the only true inheritance I claimed from the Chois was my grit. This memoir is not about settling scores. It is about surviving without surrendering to bitterness, about releasing without erasing the past. It is about what we choose to keep, the courage to let go, and how we build a life-deliberately, quietly-piece by piece.

If you have ever felt the weight of expectation pressing against your ribs, or sought solace in the smallest rituals of your day, this story was written with you in mind.

~ Huey Choi