I thought I could skip the prep class until the level test humbled me

That moment when the registration email arrived

I remember sitting in my room in Gangnam, staring at the screen for a solid ten minutes. I had convinced myself that my English was at least ‘decent’ enough to jump straight into a high-level IELTS prep course without wasting money on introductory classes. I had been watching movies without subtitles for a while and honestly felt pretty good about my vocabulary. Then, I decided to sign up for a placement test at a well-known language center near Jongno. It wasn’t even the official exam, just one of their internal screening things. I paid about 30,000 won for the privilege of realizing I had completely forgotten how to construct a proper academic essay on the spot.

The reality of timed test prep

Standing in the lobby waiting for the results, I felt a weird mix of anxiety and annoyance. The place was packed with teenagers and young adults who looked like they lived in these hallways. One student next to me was frantically flipping through a TOEFL vocabulary book, muttering synonyms under her breath. I felt like an imposter. When I finally got my score, it wasn’t terrible, but it certainly wasn’t the ‘advanced’ level I had hallucinated for myself. The instructor pointed to a lower-level module and suggested I start there to get used to the iBT format. It felt like a setback, especially since I had already mentally planned my schedule around the more expensive, intensive program.

Searching for alternatives on my phone

I spent the subway ride home looking at various apps, wondering if I could just skip the actual classes altogether. People were talking about ‘Speak’ versus ‘Mal-hoga’ in forums, and I found myself getting distracted by the sheer number of options. It felt like I was trying to find a shortcut in a maze. I downloaded one of them, paid for a month, and did maybe two lessons before falling asleep on my couch. The problem wasn’t the app—it was my own lack of structure. The convenience of doing it at home felt great until I realized I was just scrolling through my feed instead of practicing my speaking. It’s hard to stay motivated when there isn’t a physical desk or a teacher looking at you expectantly.

Why I keep looking at overseas summer camps

Maybe it’s the frustration of the city grind, but I found myself looking at those brochures for family language camps in the Philippines—places like Cebu or Baguio. The tuition for international schools in Korea is astronomical, and the idea of sending someone away for a few weeks to do nothing but focused study suddenly seems less like an expensive vacation and more like a tactical necessity. Some of the programs offered at places like EV Academy actually look quite structured compared to the chaotic self-study I’ve been attempting. I keep wondering if I should just commit to that, but then I think about the logistics of it all and end up closing the browser tab again.

The lingering uncertainty of the next steps

I still haven’t signed up for the actual TOEFL or IELTS exam. I’m currently stuck in this phase of buying thick textbooks that I rarely open, keeping them on my desk as a kind of visual encouragement. Every time I walk past a large language center in Gangnam, I hesitate. Is it really worth the time commitment right now? Should I try to push through the frustration of the placement test results and just join the group class, or am I just going to be paying for a seat I don’t use? The pressure to be ‘ready’ is annoying, especially when I don’t even know if I’ll need these scores for work or something else by the time I actually achieve them. It feels like I’m preparing for an event that hasn’t been put on the calendar yet.