Korean dramas have a way of weaving deep emotions into compelling narratives, and It's Okay to Not Be Okay is no exception. This 2020 psychological romance drama explores trauma, healing, and the power of human connection. With stunning cinematography, unforgettable performances, and a storyline that tugs at the heart, it’s a series that leaves a lasting impact.
Where to Watch
You can stream It's Okay to Not Be Okay on Netflix and BiliBili, making it easily accessible for viewers worldwide.
Production Details
The series was written by Jo Yong and directed by Park Shin-woo. It aired on tvN from June 20 to August 9, 2020, with a total of 16 episodes, each running between 70–85 minutes. Produced by Story TV and Gold Medalist, the drama gained international recognition, even earning a nomination at the 49th International Emmy Awards.
Characters and Cast
- Moon Kang-tae (Kim Soo-hyun) – A psychiatric ward caretaker who has spent his life caring for his autistic brother.
- Ko Moon-young (Seo Yea-ji) – A famous children’s book author with antisocial personality disorder.
- Moon Sang-tae (Oh Jung-se) – Kang-tae’s older brother, who is autistic and deeply passionate about art.
- Nam Joo-ri (Park Gyu-young) – Kang-tae’s co-worker and childhood friend.
- Oh Ji-wang (Kim Chang-wan) – The director of OK Psychiatric Hospital.
- Lee Sang-in (Kim Joo-hun) – CEO of Moon-young’s publishing company.
Plot
Moon Kang-tae has spent his life caring for his autistic brother, Moon Sang-tae, ever since their mother’s tragic death. Constantly moving from town to town, Kang-tae works as a caregiver in psychiatric hospitals, suppressing his own emotions to prioritize his brother’s needs.
Ko Moon-young, a celebrated children’s book author, is known for her dark and unconventional stories. She struggles with deep-seated trauma and exhibits antisocial behavior. When she meets Kang-tae, she becomes fixated on him, believing they share a connection from their past.
As fate brings them together in their childhood hometown, Moon-young, Kang-tae, and Sang-tae begin a journey of healing. They confront painful memories, uncover hidden truths, and slowly learn to embrace vulnerability. Through Moon-young’s storytelling and Sang-tae’s artistic expression, they find solace in each other, proving that healing is possible when surrounded by love and understanding.
Edd's Takeaway
Beyond its gripping plot, It's Okay to Not Be Okay teaches valuable life lessons:
- Healing isn’t a straight line—it’s messy, nonlinear, and painfully slow. Trauma doesn’t vanish with a snap or a smile; it settles in deep, demanding time, space, and care. This series captures that raw truth. It doesn’t rush recovery or sugarcoat the struggle. Instead, it paints healing as a process—one built on patience, support, and showing up even on the hardest days. There are no instant fixes, only moments of growth stitched between setbacks. But with the right people, a safe space, and the will to keep moving, wounds begin to mend. Slowly. Quietly. And then one day—you realize you’ve changed.
- Embracing Imperfections – It means owning the messy, complicated parts of who we are. Every character in this series wrestles with their own flaws—some loud, some quiet, but all deeply human. They stumble, break, heal, and grow, showing us that perfection is a myth and vulnerability is strength. These imperfections don’t make them less—they make them real. Their struggles reflect our own, reminding us it’s okay to be unfinished, to be learning, to be flawed. In a world obsessed with filters and flawlessness, this story leans into the raw and the real. Because growth begins where perfection ends—with honesty and self-acceptance.
- The power of storytelling pulses through Moon-young’s books—raw, haunting, and deeply personal. Her tales don’t just entertain; they unravel pain, echo trauma, and offer quiet hope. Each page holds a mirror to real-life struggles, reminding us that stories can be more than fiction—they can heal. Through metaphor and memory, storytelling becomes therapy, a safe space to feel seen and understood. Moon-young shows that writing is a release, reading is refuge, and connection can bloom through shared pain. Her stories don’t fix everything, but they open hearts, spark empathy, and remind us we’re not alone in our battles. That’s the magic.
- Breaking Stigmas Around Mental Health – This drama kicks down the doors of silence, breaking stigmas wrapped around mental health. It doesn't whisper—it speaks boldly, weaving real conversations into every scene. Instead of hiding pain behind fake smiles, characters confront their struggles head-on, showing that vulnerability isn’t weakness—it’s courage. By normalizing therapy, trauma, and emotional complexity, the story invites viewers to rethink what it means to be “okay.” It fosters empathy, not pity; understanding, not judgment. Mental health isn’t taboo here—it’s human. And in a world still scared of its own scars, this series dares to say: You’re not broken for feeling. You’re brave for healing.
- Love and Acceptance – Love—messy, fierce, and unconditional—is the anchor in life’s chaos. This drama weaves a tapestry of love in all its forms: the tenderness between lovers, the pain and hope in family ties, the quiet loyalty of friendship. It shows that love isn’t just about grand gestures—it’s about staying when things get hard, choosing someone even when they’re at their lowest. Through heartbreak, healing, and everything in between, love becomes a lifeline. It doesn’t fix everything, but it gives us strength to face the storm. Because when we’re seen, accepted, and held—flaws and all—that’s when true transformation begins. That’s real power.
In real life, we’re taught to bury our emotions, to wear masks that hide the cracks. Pain gets tucked away, wounds wrapped in silence, because confronting the past can feel like tearing open old stitches. But this series refuses to look away. It shows us that healing doesn’t come from denial—it starts with acknowledgment. Kang-tae and Moon-young carry trauma like second skin, yet their journey is a raw, powerful reminder that facing our pain is the first step toward freedom. We are not defined by what’s broken in us. Like them, we all deserve to be seen fully—mess, scars, and all—and still be loved. Real love doesn’t flinch at the shadows; it sits with them, listens, stays. The story dismantles the illusion that we have to be "fixed" to be worthy. It tells us that vulnerability is strength, that embracing what hurts is part of the healing. Through every tear, confrontation, and quiet moment of connection, the message is clear: you are not your trauma, and you are not alone. In the light of compassion, even the most shattered hearts can begin to mend. This isn’t just fiction—it’s a mirror. And maybe, a gentle push toward our own healing.
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