Written by Lee Si-eun and Directed by Kim Sang-hyeop

Developed by Studio N & Studio Dragon

A soft glow in the world of coming-of-age stories

Not every story needs to shatter the mold to touch us.  Some meet us in our quiet moments—when we’re weary, uncertain, or searching for a place to rest. Some stories reach out, as if to say, “You’re not alone in this.” True Beauty does this with a tender grace. Its plot treads familiar ground: high school hallways, friendships stretched thin, the ache of unspoken longing. Yet within this familiarity lies something vital, something true.  At its core, the plot follows a young woman navigating the weight of appearances, weaving a story of self-esteem, bullying, family expectations, and the deep yearning to be loved for who we are beneath the masks we wear.

These are not small matters. They are the questions that linger from youth into the years beyond: Can I be seen without shame? Am I enough, just as I am?

Beneath its rom-com sheen—bright, colourful, and sometimes delightfully cliché—it cradles these tender uncertainties. It offers warmth, a burst of laughter, a space to breathe. In a world that often demands perfection, True Beauty whispers that our imperfections are part of what makes us human, reflecting the quiet pressures of a society where beauty can feel like currency.

The visuals are a joy: cinematography that dances with vibrant, almost dreamlike clarity, paired with a soundtrack that hums with feeling, turning fleeting moments into memories. The performances, too, carry a gentle weight. Cha Eun-woo’s presence is especially captivating, his expressive eyes holding a vulnerability that feels effortless yet profound, remarkable specially in such a young age. It’s a reminder that sincerity can speak louder than spectacle.

True Beauty taught me that a story doesn’t need to be bold or cutting to matter. Sometimes, we need something kind—a drama that offers laughter, healing, and a reminder that growing up is a messy, beautiful unfolding. It’s a story about being seen, truly seen, and the courage it takes to let that happen.  If you’ve found comfort in shows like My Demon or Record of Youth, this will feel like a familiar embrace. Yes, it walks well-trodden paths, but it does so with heart. Let it guide you to a place where sincerity still holds weight, where self-acceptance is a journey, not a finish line. Perhaps, as you watch, you’ll find yourself reflecting: What does it mean to be truly seen? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Image courtesy of tvN