Many people say that my positive energy lights up the room, but

Lee Hye-ri, with humility and grace, once declared: “Many people say that my positive energy lights up the room, but I think it’s the people around me who give me strength.” In this gentle confession lies a profound truth: no light shines in isolation, no flame burns without fuel, and no spirit glows without the warmth of others. What the world sees as radiance within her, she reveals as a reflection of the love and support of those who surround her. Thus, she teaches that joy is not a solitary crown but a shared garment woven by many hands.

The meaning of her words is twofold. First, she reminds us that what others perceive as our strength is often born from the hidden sacrifices and encouragement of those unseen. Behind every singer, actor, warrior, or leader stands a community that nourishes their courage. Second, she offers a lesson in humility: though praised for her positive energy, she chooses not to exalt herself but to honor those who inspire her. This humility itself is a form of strength, for it binds people closer, deepening the circle of support.

The origin of this quote is rooted in Hye-ri’s journey as both an artist and a public figure. Rising to fame as a performer, she carried the burden of public expectation, criticism, and relentless labor. Yet instead of seeing her success as self-made, she looked around and recognized the fans, the colleagues, the family, and the friends who steadied her steps. Thus, when she says it is the people around her who give her strength, she speaks not only as an entertainer but as a human being aware of the sacred interdependence of life.

History offers many echoes of this wisdom. Think of Eleanor Roosevelt, who was admired for her courage and eloquence. She often said her power came not from herself alone but from the support of those who believed in justice alongside her. Or consider Mahatma Gandhi, who though frail in body, was lifted by the countless ordinary men and women who followed him in the salt marches and bore suffering with him. In both, as in Hye-ri, we see that a single person may seem to shine brightly, but the strength of the people is the hidden fire that sustains the glow.

The imagery here is beautiful: a room lit with positive energy. But light does not arise from the lamp alone; it requires oil, wick, and flame together. So too is the human heart: it may burn with joy, but it is nourished by companionship, by encouragement, by shared laughter and shared tears. The wise know that no star exists apart from the constellations, and no person thrives apart from the circle of others. To recognize this truth is not weakness but wisdom, for it transforms self-pride into gratitude.

What then shall we learn from this? That if we would shine, we must first honor those who make our shining possible. The teacher who inspired us, the friend who comforted us, the family who believed in us—these are the unseen pillars of our strength. And in turn, we must become such pillars for others, so that their light too may glow more brightly. For just as Hye-ri draws her energy from those around her, so may we give strength to those who look to us with hope.

Practically, this means to practice gratitude daily. Speak it aloud—thank those who encourage you. Offer your own positive energy not as self-glory but as a gift to others. When you feel weak, turn not inward in despair but outward to the community that surrounds you. And when you see another faltering, lend them your strength, for in doing so you strengthen yourself.

Take this teaching as your guide: your light is not yours alone; it is a reflection of the love that surrounds you. Cherish it, honor it, and share it. For when many lights are joined, they dispel even the deepest night. And in that shared radiance, both the giver and the receiver find strength unshakable.