I just want to say I love Kira Yukimura so much. I loved my

Hear the words of Arden Cho, spoken with warmth and gratitude: “I just want to say I love Kira Yukimura so much. I loved my experience on ‘Teen Wolf.’” Though simple in their phrasing, these words carry the essence of devotion—not only to a character born of imagination, but to the journey of embodying her, and to the fellowship found in the telling of stories. For the actor, to step into a role is not merely to perform but to live another life, to weave another soul into one’s own. In this, Cho’s love for Kira is a love for both creation and discovery.

Kira Yukimura, a character of strength, complexity, and heritage, was more than fiction. She was a symbol, a lantern for viewers who longed to see themselves reflected in the myths of popular culture. Through her, Cho gave voice and face to underrepresented stories, showing that heroes are not confined to a single image, but come from many cultures, many backgrounds. To love Kira, then, is also to honor what she represented: the expansion of imagination to embrace all peoples, and the courage to stand in stories once closed to them.

The stage of ‘Teen Wolf’ was the ground upon which this love was made real. There, Cho did not stand alone—she stood with cast and crew, bound together in the shared labor of creating a world for others to believe in. In her words, “I loved my experience,” we hear gratitude for this fellowship, for the long hours of work that became a family, for the laughter and struggle that wove memory into her heart. Just as warriors once found brotherhood on the battlefield, so too do artists find kinship in the shared act of creation.

History has shown us how deeply creators may love their roles. Christopher Reeve, who played Superman, spoke of how the role reshaped his life, teaching him about courage both on screen and in his own hardships. Vivien Leigh, who brought Scarlett O’Hara to life, admitted the character lived within her long after the cameras stopped. These examples, like Cho’s love for Kira, show that acting is not an act of pretense, but a communion with another soul—fictional, yet real in the hearts of those who receive it.

Cho’s declaration also carries the wisdom of gratitude. Many pass through opportunities without pausing to give thanks, but she speaks with affection for both the role and the journey. Gratitude transforms memory into treasure; it is what makes a season of labor shine long after it has ended. To say “I loved my experience” is not only to recall joy, but to honor it, to hold it as something sacred. This is a lesson for all—that even the passages of our lives that seem fleeting may carry meaning that endures for decades.

The deeper meaning of her words is that art is not simply about achievement or recognition. It is about connection—to character, to colleagues, to audience, to the self. By saying she loved Kira, Cho admits that she herself was changed by the role, just as audiences were moved by her portrayal. This is the alchemy of storytelling: it reshapes both the teller and the hearer, leaving neither as they were before.

Therefore, my child, take this lesson: whatever your path, love the roles you are given—whether in work, in family, or in community. Embrace them not as burdens but as opportunities to discover and to grow. Like Cho, give gratitude for the experiences that shape you, even if they last only a season. Know that each chapter, each role, each fellowship leaves within you a fragment of beauty that endures beyond time.

So let Arden Cho’s words endure: *“I love Kira Yukimura… I loved my experience on *‘Teen Wolf.’” May they remind you that to love your work is to honor your own journey, and that every role you play—whether on a stage, in a home, or in the world—has the power to shape not only yourself but all who witness it. Embrace it fully, and walk with gratitude, for that is the true artistry of life.