The Shocking Truth About Rumi in KPOP Demon Hunters

There's more to Rumi's patterns and backstory than meets the eye (Credit: Netflix)

There's a shocking truth about Rumi from KPOP Demon Hunters.

I was watching it with my daughter, and a realization about Rumi’s past hit me like a bolt of lightning.

I immediately started crying.

It was the scene when Celine was brushing Rumi’s hair in front of a grave. It was revealed that her dad was a Demon and her mom was a Demon Hunter.

After growing up watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and reading books from Dean Koontz and Stephen King… I suddenly knew a possible implication of this backstory:

Maybe Rumi is the child born from a SA.

Whether or not Netflix intended for this to be the story, this is certainly one possibility that people may not be ready to talk about. But I'm going to talk about it, because I'm a Reflector and that's what I'm here to do. To show humanity the light and the dark of our existence.

Seeing her backstory through this darker, more violent lens, one can see the reason for the war within herself.

Perhaps this heinous act is the birthplace of the shame that she carries. THIS is the sin that she is haunted by, a sin not committed by her, but by her own flesh and blood. Her patterns are a constant reminder of the atrocity her mother endured, and her inability to escape the past she had no part in writing.

Rumi is the physical representation of how patriarchy and separation are hurting us all.

She’s born from violence, from an attempt to control, from power OVER. Fueled by rage and shame, she fights the entities that hurt the people she loves, that hurt her mother. But, an awareness that without the demons, she wouldn’t exist.

She is forced to hide her true nature, encouraged by someone who loves her but is terrified of what could happen if she is exposed.

Rumi’s friends feel the distance, the lies. Rumi’s voice is choked up and broken. The Honmoon is nearly destroyed by the separation.

The demons are also trapped. Caged by the Honmoon. Hunted for being what they are. Enslaved by a powerthirsty mega demon who will stop at nothing to destroy all humanity. Deemed ugly, unworthy of life, unfeeling monsters.

This is the paradox of patriarchy. To have heroes, there must be villains. And to fuel the war, there must be victims.

Villains, Heroes, and Victims all play a role in the story of patriarchy. (Photo credit: Entertainment Weekly)

Here’s the truth: The demons are not to blame for the pain. Neither are the demon hunters. Neither are the people. They are all playing parts in the script we’ve ascribed to since antiquity.

Villian. Victim. Hero. The Trinity of Separation.

Heroes, villains, and victims all play a role in the fight.

It’s this story that continues to feed the pain, the fear, the chaos in our planet. We paint the other side as the villains, shout about our victimhood, all while waiting for a hero to come save us.

We all carry the shame of our mothers and fathers. We feel it in our bones. They are written as clearly on our faces as Rumi’s patterns.

We keep fighting each other, the same conflicts repeated generation after generation. We attack the other, thinking it will stop the pain we feel.

Convinced that we are the heroes and they are the villains. That because they hurt us, they deserve to be hurt back.

But the hatred, shame, and rage we feel don’t start with the SA, the war, the external travesties perpetrated by another.

That shame, hatred, distrust, fear, and rage all live inside of us. Just like it lives in Rumi.

We keep trying to fight the demons outside of us, but it’s the war we rage against ourselves that keeps us trapped, separated from love, broken.

In a moment of brokenness and courage, Rumi showed us something we so desperately need to remember if we’re going to save humanity.

She showed us what happens when we open our hearts and stand in the truth of Who We Truly Are.

“Nothing but the truth now

Nothing but the proof of what I am

The worst of what I came from, patterns I’m ashamed of

Things that even I don’t understand

I tried to fix it, I tried to fight it

My head was twisted, my heart divided

My lies all collided

I don’t know why I didn’t trust you to be on my side.

I broke into a million pieces, and I can’t go back

But now I’m seeing all the beauty in the broken glass

The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony

My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like”

Her anthem can become our anthem.

“Why did I cover up the colors stuck inside my head?

I should’ve let the jagged edges meet the light instead

Show me what’s underneath, I’ll find your harmony

The song we couldn’t write, this is what it sounds like”

Vulnerability, trust, and forgiveness are the healing ingredients (Credit: Netflix)

We don’t win this war by fighting. Patriarchy, war, violence, hatred, divisiveness, poverty, SA, abuse… they will never be defeated through separation. They will never heal until we heal the war, abuse, and violence within ourselves.

What repairs the Honmoon? What liberates us all from tyranny?

Healing the relationship with our own bodies, our own hearts.

Embodying what Rumi demonstrated:

Openness.

Vulnerability.

Trust.

Kindness.

Forgiveness.

Taking responsibility for our behaviors and actions and striving to do better.

This movie, it’s not just a movie. It’s our souls trying to tell us what we so desperately want to remember. It’s the siren song that keeps repeating over and over in attempts to wake ourselves up.

We keep making stories and songs and books and movies to help us remember what we came here to remember: That we are not alone. We are ALL ONE.

Will you remember?

Love,

Your Friendly Neighborhood Reflector 🪞

Kori loves using stories and analogies to connect with others

Kori Rae Kovacs is a Registered Nurse, Reflector in Human Design, and a lover of stories.

She uses analogy, poetry, and reflective writing to help others see the light and truth within themselves, so they can live their fullest, most Vibrant Lives.