One day, my coworker walked into the office with a short bob instead of her usual long ponytail. “Wow, love the haircut! It suits you so much,” I said. To my surprise, she burst into tears. I had no idea what I said wrong. She sniffled and said, “I cut it to feel worthy of someone who didn’t even notice.”Her name was Maris. Always kind, always helpful, the type who remembered birthdays and made sure the office fridge was never full of expired yogurt. We weren’t close, but we got along. I never imagined she was going through anything heavy.

After she cried, I offered her some tissues and led her to the break room. “You okay?” I asked softly. She took a deep breath and nodded, wiping her face.

“I’m sorry. It’s not the haircut. I mean… it is, but it’s not.”

I waited. She looked at her reflection in the microwave and sighed.

“There’s this guy. Was this guy.”

Ah. Of course.

“I’d been seeing him for six months. His name’s Kael. We met through a community art event, of all places. He’s not even an artist. He was just there because his niece was in it. But we started talking, and then texting, and then suddenly we were grabbing dinner every weekend.”

She paused, staring into her coffee like it had answers.

“I told myself I wasn’t falling for him. That we were just having fun. But I started changing little things about myself. Subtle stuff. Like how I dressed. How I wore my hair.”

She touched the ends of her new bob absentmindedly.

“He said once, casually, that he always found short hair really elegant. I remembered that. Weeks later, I booked the haircut.”

Maris gave a sad smile. “The day I got it done, I showed up at his place, thinking he’d be all surprised and happy. But he didn’t even notice. Not even a passing ‘oh, you did something different?’”

I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet.

She laughed bitterly. “You know what he did notice that night? That his team lost a stupid fantasy football game.”

It hit me how much we all carry, quietly. She showed up every day, chipper, reliable. No one had a clue.

Over the next few days, I kept checking in with her. Not prying, just sharing lunch, leaving her silly notes on her desk, stuff like that. And slowly, she warmed back up. Her energy returned, but I could tell something in her had shifted.

A couple weeks later, she came to me with a strange request.