I spent a small fortune on study abroad consulting and still feel lost

The initial meeting felt way too polished

I remember sitting in a glass-walled office in Gangnam, listening to a consultant explain how easy it would be to get into a top-tier university abroad. The brochure they handed me was glossy, thick, and filled with photos of smiling students in graduation caps. At the time, I was just desperate to find a way out of the crushing pressure of Korean test scores. They talked about ‘bespoke roadmaps’ and ‘strategic positioning,’ which sounded impressive, but honestly, it just felt like a sales pitch. I paid about 8 million won for the whole consultation package back then, thinking it was an investment in my future. Looking back, I wonder if that money really bought me a path or just a false sense of security. The office had this faint smell of expensive coffee and air freshener, a stark contrast to the stuffy library where I spent most of my days preparing for the Suneung. I walked out thinking I had everything handled, but the anxiety didn’t actually go away.

Documents and the hidden costs of applying

Once the payments were processed, the real work began, and by ‘work,’ I mean endless paperwork. The consultant would send me emails at midnight with lists of things I needed to translate or certify. There was always another fee. Need an apostille for your high school transcript? That’s an extra service charge. Want someone to review your personal statement one more time? That’s another session fee. It felt like every step I took required another transaction. I remember spending nearly 150,000 won just on courier fees for mailing documents to different offices. My parents were supportive, but I felt terrible watching them hand over these chunks of money for things that were never explicitly mentioned in the ‘all-inclusive’ package I signed up for at the start. It was supposed to be a stress-free transition, but I spent more time checking bank balances and deadlines than actually researching the culture of the place I was supposed to be moving to.

The reality of the entrance exam prep

I ended up focusing heavily on the EJU prep at a place similar to Jongno Study Abroad, which felt like a totally different world from the university consulting firm. At the academy, it wasn’t about ‘strategy’ as much as it was about brute-force memorization and practice tests. The atmosphere was grim. There were students who had been there for two years, repeating the same courses to squeeze out an extra few points. I remember sitting next to a guy who had been trying for a top Japanese pharmacy school; he told me the competition was intense, even if some people claim it’s ‘easier than the Korean exam.’ It didn’t feel easier to me. We were all just exhausted, surviving on instant noodles from the convenience store downstairs and the hope that all this effort wouldn’t be for nothing. The consultant told me I was on track, but staring at my practice test scores every Friday, I felt like I was drifting in the middle of the ocean.

Why I still question the process

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had just applied to a local university and saved the money. Maybe I would be working in finance or consulting right now without the massive student debt. I spent so much time following the ‘optimal path’ designed by someone else that I never really figured out what I actually wanted to study. I have my degree now, and the piece of paper looks nice, but the process of getting it felt like I was being herded through a machine. The consultant kept telling me that networking would be the biggest benefit of their program, but honestly, most of the people I met were just as confused as I was. We were all just paying to be part of a pipeline. Even now, when I talk to younger students who ask me about my time abroad, I find myself struggling to give them a straight answer. It wasn’t a failure, exactly, but it wasn’t the life-changing awakening the brochure promised, either. It was just a lot of waiting, a lot of fees, and a quiet realization that I had to figure the rest of it out on my own anyway.