One day, my coworker Maris walked into the office with a new bob haircut. “Wow, love the haircut!” I said. To my shock, she burst into tears. Through sniffles, she admitted: “I cut it for someone who didn’t even notice.” Maris had been dating a guy named Kael for six months. She remembered he once said he liked short hair, so she changed hers—only for him to ignore it completely. What he did notice that night? His fantasy football team losing. It broke her.
Over the next weeks, I checked in with her. Slowly, she smiled again. Then she asked me to accompany her to a gala her aunt was hosting—she didn’t want to go alone. That night, she looked stunning, and we ran into Kael with another woman. He glanced at Maris, clearly noticing her now. She whispered, “Too late.”
Later, Kael emailed her, saying she looked great and asking to meet. Maris smiled, hit delete, and moved on. Our friendship grew—lunches, late walks, small confessions. Then one day, after seeing Kael at the grocery store, she admitted she almost believed his lies again. But she stopped herself. “I realized—I don’t need him. You made me feel seen. He never did.”
Spring came, and Maris started a pastry course she’d always dreamed of. Eventually, she asked me to dinner—not for support, but as a maybe. Love grew, slowly and tenderly. The final twist? She met Kael’s ex at baking class. They compared stories, realizing his lies weren’t their fault. That gave Maris peace.
Now, a year later, Maris teaches baking on Sundays. We live together, surrounded by flour, laughter, and love. She still wears her hair short—not for anyone else, but for herself. And I’ve learned this: real love never asks you to change. You are already enough.
