Aaron Um shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Aaron, a huge thanks to you for investing the time to share your wisdom with those who are seeking it. We think it’s so important for us to share stories with our neighbors, friends and community because knowledge multiples when we share with each other. Let’s jump in: What do you think is misunderstood about your business?
Many people assume Taekwondo is just about fighting, or that it’s mainly for boys. But at Golden Eagle Taekwondo, we believe martial arts is not just a sport, it’s a way to build a strong and meaningful life.
Yes, we teach powerful kicks and punches, and they’re fun and exciting, but what sets us apart is our deeper purpose. Some schools may focus only on physical strength or competition. At Golden Eagle, we focus on the whole person: body, mind, and spirit.
From the youngest students, we help build core strength, coordination, balance, and flexibility, but we also train something even more important: discipline, confidence, focus, and respect. These qualities are the foundation of a strong life, and we practice them in every class.
Another common misconception is that martial arts is only for boys. In reality, some of the strongest, most focused students I’ve taught are girls. I’ve seen shy children, especially young girls, grow into bold, respectful, and courageous young leaders through our program. Taekwondo helps them discover who they are and how strong they can be, inside and out.
At Golden Eagle, we’re not just teaching students how to fight, we’re helping them prepare for life. With every bow, every form, and every challenge, we’re raising leaders who walk with purpose, humility, and strength.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Aaron Um, and Taekwondo has been part of my life since I was a child growing up in Korea. I later moved to Spain, and eventually to the United States, carrying with me a deep love for martial arts, not just as a sport, but as a way to guide people toward a meaningful life.
I founded Golden Eagle Taekwondo with a mission that goes far beyond teaching kicks and punches. In today’s generation, I see too many young people drifting, focused only on themselves, chasing things that don’t last, and losing their sense of value. Many lack discipline, struggle with self-respect, and don’t know what they stand for. Even respect within the home, toward parents, elders, or even themselves, has become rare.
That’s why our school is different. Yes, we teach strong martial arts techniques, but we focus just as much on building discipline, confidence, focus, and respect. These are not just words, we live them, model them, and expect them from our students. We’re not just training martial artists; we’re helping shape good human beings, leaders, sons and daughters with character, and future adults who can stand tall no matter what life throws at them.
Golden Eagle has grown into a community of hundreds of students across multiple schools, but at its heart, it’s still a place of transformation. I’ve seen shy children become confident leaders, and struggling teens rediscover their purpose. I’ve walked through hard times myself, including seasons where we lost everything and had to start again, but God used those times to deepen my mission.
Right now, I’m focused on expanding this mission, reaching more families, empowering women, and helping the next generation rise with strength and purpose. Taekwondo is the tool, but the real goal is to restore what’s been lost in this generation: identity, respect, and the courage to live with meaning.
Appreciate your sharing that. Let’s talk about your life, growing up and some of topics and learnings around that. Who were you before the world told you who you had to be?
Before the world told me who I had to be, I was a quiet boy in Korea with a big imagination and a deep desire to protect others. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone, I just wanted to make people feel safe and seen. I loved movement, rhythm, and the feeling of strength that came through practice. Taekwondo became my language before I fully understood my own voice.
But as I grew, the world began to speak louder. Expectations came, be tough, be successful, be someone you’re not. I tried to meet those standards, but the more I tried to become what others expected, the more I felt disconnected from the boy I once was.
At some point, I became what the world called “successful.” I ran a company with over 200 employees, built an 8-figure sales business, and was chasing early retirement. But deep inside, I felt empty. I had gained everything on paper, yet I was slowly losing who I truly was.
Then came 2008, the year Lehman Brothers collapsed. That same year, I lost everything, financially and emotionally. My business crumbled, and I faced one of the hardest seasons of my life as my wife was diagnosed with cancer. The hardship didn’t last for months, it lasted over ten years. I was exhausted, broken, and confused. And one morning, I woke up with nothing left… except one thing: I found faith in God.
That moment changed everything.
For the first time, I realized I wasn’t who I thought I was. My true purpose was never money, fame or material things. It was to find who I really am, and to start changing myself first. That realization gave me clarity: I wasn’t called to impress, I was called to serve. I wasn’t called to climb, I was called to lift others up.
Those painful years stripped away everything the world told me I had to be… and brought me back to my true calling.
What did suffering teach you that success never could?
Suffering taught me what success never even came close to showing me: who I really am when everything is stripped away.
When I was successful by the world’s standards, with a booming business, hundreds of employees, and chasing financial freedom, I felt powerful, but I didn’t feel whole. I thought I was in control, but deep inside, I was slowly losing direction, peace, and even myself. The whole world seemed to be climbing a pile of people, stepping on each other to reach the top… but no one knew what was even up there. When I got close, all I found was hollowness. Emptiness. Money could never truly satisfy. No material thing could ever make me whole.
Then came suffering.
In 2008, everything collapsed, my business, my finances, and the illusion I had built around my identity. That same year, my wife was diagnosed with cancer, and my mother passed away unexpectedly. I was left with nothing but fear, exhaustion, and deep questions about life, faith, and purpose. The suffering didn’t go away quickly, it lasted for years. And in those years, I discovered what success had hidden from me.
I learned humility. I learned how to ask for help. I learned what it meant to be broken, and still keep going. I realized that my worth wasn’t in what I had achieved, but in who I was becoming in the fire.
Pain and suffering are never welcome, but they revealed something powerful. I once heard someone say, “For a woman, love is everything. But for a man, it’s pride.” And I believe it’s true. Men will risk their lives for pride, we see it on highways, in arguments, in the relentless pursuit of success. But when pain comes, the first thing it crushes is a man’s pride. And that’s when something changes.
When my pride collapsed, I started hearing what I couldn’t hear before. I heard the voice of God though the word of God. Also I finally heard my wife’s voice once again, what she had been saying all along. My ears had been plugged by pride. But the brokenness opened them.
And most of all, I found God.
I realized my life was never about climbing higher, it was about going deeper. Deeper into faith. Deeper into compassion. Deeper into my calling to serve. Suffering stripped away everything I thought I needed and gave me everything I truly needed: character, conviction, and clarity.
Today, I feel a deep urgency to speak to other men and the next generation. I see many silently suffering, unaware of where their pain is coming from. I know, because I lived it. That’s why I carry these lessons into everything I do, from how I teach my students, to how I love my family, to how I lead with purpose.
Success gave me confidence. But suffering gave me wisdom, heart, and truth.
I think our readers would appreciate hearing more about your values and what you think matters in life and career, etc. So our next question is along those lines. Is the public version of you the real you?
Out of all the options, I chose to answer this hard question, because it’s an important reminder for me too.
For a long time, the answer was no.
There was a time when the public version of me looked strong, confident, and successful. I had a booming business, a respected image, and the world’s approval. But behind closed doors, I was carrying pain, pressure, and a growing sense of emptiness. I was living up to an image, one built more on pride and performance than on truth.
It wasn’t until I lost everything, my business, my stability, and my sense of identity, that I truly began to meet myself. Through suffering, I found faith. Through brokenness, I found honesty. And that changed everything.
Today, the public version of me is much closer to the real me. I’m not perfect. I still have weaknesses, like any human being. But what people see now, my passion for Taekwondo, my love for my family, my faith in God, and my desire to help others, isn’t a mask. It’s the fruit of years of fire, grace, and deep inner work.
Long ago, I learned this lesson: since I found faith, I cannot lie to myself, because God sees my heart. That’s why I do my best to live truthfully, even when it’s uncomfortable. It’s one of the greatest pressures of my daily walk.
I teach my students to be careful with “white lies,” because there is no such thing. A lie is a lie. I often share a story with them: Some time ago, I had a meeting with a friend, but I forgot about it and showed up late. When I arrived, he said, “Traffic is crazy today,” and I just nodded as if that was my excuse too. But the truth was, I simply forgot.
Later, while teaching my students about honesty, I felt convicted. I realized I couldn’t speak about truth while living a small lie. So I made one of the hardest phone calls of my life and told him, “Brother, I want to apologize. I wasn’t late because of traffic, I was late because I forgot.” He laughed and said, “I’m glad you told me the truth, brother.” From that moment on, he trusted me with whatever I said.
What I show in public now is who I strive to be when no one’s watching: someone who walks in truth, serves with humility, and leads with a heart that’s been broken and rebuilt. My greatest desire is for my family to say, “My husband is the same man at home as he is out there,” and “My dad is the same dad at home as he is in public.”
So yes, today, the public version of me is much closer to the real me, because I’ve finally learned to live from the inside out.
Okay, so before we go, let’s tackle one more area. What do you think people will most misunderstand about your legacy?
I think some people may look at my life and remember the schools I’ve built, the black belts I’ve awarded, the medals, the students, or the growing number of locations, and assume that’s my legacy.
But that’s not the full story.
What may be misunderstood is that my legacy was never meant to be about success, status, or titles. Those things are just tools. My true legacy, what matters most to me, is the unseen work: the character that was shaped, the broken hearts that were healed, and the lives that were redirected toward purpose, discipline, and hope.
Many times, when I share my testimony, people say, “I thought you came from a great family… like you were born into success and inherited a strong legacy.” I always laugh hard at that, because the truth is, everything I’ve done came from deep pain and transformation.
I didn’t build my life from victory. I built it from surrender. From losing everything. From crying out to God. From walking through fire, and learning to live in truth, even when no one was watching.
If people only see the strength, they might miss the struggle that shaped it. If they only see the instructor, they may miss the servant. And if they only see a Taekwondo school, they may miss the quiet mission behind it: to raise up the next generation with courage, humility, faith, and heart.
Each time I open a new location, people often assume I’m expanding for business and profit. Yes, running a successful business matters. I have a team who shares this vision, and I carry a responsibility to provide for them and lead them well. But the deeper reason is the urgency I feel: the urgency to save more lives through what we do.
In our town, there’s no shortage of martial arts schools, one on almost every block. I often tell my team: if another school teaches the right martial arts, with the right principles that truly change lives, then they’re not competition; they’re partners. But if a school only sees students as numbers, chasing money with no heart, that’s when we see them as competition.
That’s why I go to the next town. That’s why we open another school. To offer what many families have forgotten: discipline, confidence, honor, and the power of transformation.
My hope is not that people remember what I did, but how I made them feel: seen, valued, and believed in. That they remember I stood for truth, even when it cost me. That I loved my family with everything I had. That I lived, every day, as a man of God.
That’s the legacy I hope to leave. And if it’s ever misunderstood, I trust time, and the lives we’ve touched, will eventually reveal the full story.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://www.geagletkd.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/goldeneagletkd
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GETKDFulshear
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@GoldenEagleTKD
