Our Unwritten Seoul series review: a comfortable rewatch in the making

The twins in Our Unwritten Seoul | Image via: Netflix
The twins in Our Unwritten Seoul | Image via: Netflix

At first glance, Our Unwritten Seoul looks like a simple slice-of-life healing drama, but it quietly grows into something far richer. From two young women stumbling through part-time jobs and survival-mode offices to a finale that feels like a soft exhale, the journey is unexpectedly immense.

From empty apartments to shared tables

In the beginning of Our Unwritten Seoul, Mi-ji is trapped in an exhausting job, to the point of choosing injury over confrontation. Mi-rae drifts from one part-time gig to another without a clear sense of direction.

These early scenes feel almost suffocating, but as the show unfolds, it carefully reveals why everything felt so heavy. Flashbacks arrive exactly when they should, peeling back layers with care, and each revelation deepens the emotional terrain.

A web of healing connections

Our Unwritten Seoul moves through ordinary moments, allowing relationships to bloom in small, meaningful ways. Ho-su’s hearing loss, Mi-ji’s quiet transformation into a therapist, Mi-rae’s devotion to the strawberry farm, the gradual rebirth of the mothers’ own lives each thread has space to breathe.

Sang-wol’s victory over her dyslexia to read in public, Se-jin’s return from the US, and the final image of a simple reunion in the street all highlight that healing is not about one dramatic moment: it happens through countless subtle, stubborn steps.

Our Unwritten Seoul writes itself into comfort

When the final title shifts from Our Unwritten Seoul to Our Written Seoul, it becomes more than clever wordplay. It marks a collective decision to move forward, to start living stories rather than just carrying unspoken wounds.

The pacing feels almost miraculous in its precision. Nothing is rushed, nothing overstays. Each moment has the right weight and softness, inviting you to stay fully present without checking the clock.

Small rebellions, quiet victories

One of the most remarkable strengths of Our Unwritten Seoul is how it captures small acts of defiance as moments of quiet triumph. Mi-ji choosing to return to university to become a therapist, Mi-rae transforming a once-sour strawberry harvest into a thriving future, Sang-wol overcoming her dislexia to finally read in public, and the mothers deciding to live for themselves after years of self-sacrifice all feel like gentle revolutions.

These storylines show that healing doesn’t always roar; sometimes it whispers through small choices and ordinary days. Each character learns that growth is not about dramatic reinvention but about learning to stay soft even when the world tries to harden them.

A finale that seals a future rewatch

By the time credits roll, Our Unwritten Seoul achieves something rare. Even with resolutions mostly in place by episode 11, episode 12 keeps you fully engaged until the last second. The show understands that closure is not about tying every thread into a neat bow but about leaving just enough warmth to make you want to revisit these characters again and again. It feels close to the charm of Hometown Cha-Cha-Cha, though in its own quieter, more introspective way.


Rating with a touch of flair: 5 out of 5 handwritten letters finally delivered under the Seoul night sky.

Edited by Beatrix Kondo