Founder of Actualization
I am Alex Chung.
Dad, husband, et al.
I used to be a hoarder of accomplishments. But I’m not what you’d call an overachieving Asian. I mean, from a credentials standpoint, you could say I did alright. I got a Juris Doctorate in a frame somewhere (my reason to move to California). I’m a licensed attorney (the only way I could stay there). A nationally certified firearms instructor (just to see if I could). Published author (thanks for buying, fam). Corporate executive (I hate collared shirts). Entrepreneur (ever hear of the Internet? Gonna be big). Marketer (do you even brand, bro?).
Truth is, I am blessed with abundance, to have dream job after dream job, only to wake up realizing time and time again, they just were not for me.
Because I wasn’t being completely real. I hit my limit of growth in each particular path because I was in them for the wrong reasons. Salaries. Car allowances. Expense accounts. Corner offices. Titles. Titles. Titles (check out this business card, though). Sure, my parents were proud their son made it but I was a grown man breaking out in my 30s from literally wearing the wrong type of clothing (dress shirts make my neck itch).
So I got out. I konmaried it. Thanked it for its time and sent it on its way. Again and again. I got out. I got free.
Eventually though, I found my (all) in.
My favorite titles are Dad and Husband. The realest me is the true me. Absent titles, I’m just a Korean guy who lifts weights and puts his family first (not in that order). I’m a grinder from New York, a dude from California, and a man softened and hardened by the Midwest (and one memorable year in the South).
All of that to say, there is so much more to my story. How about you?
I wish I could tell you I have it all figured out, but I have to be real with you.
I can only tell you what I know. My truths. I know my all-ins, now. And besides the obvious ones, I have a big dream I call Actualization, and it is about to come true. If you want to know more, keep on reading. If not, this is where we part.
So long, and thanks for all the fish.