before i knew it, my hair had gotten long

Tokyo, November 21, 2025.

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いつのまにか髪が長くなった

いつのまにか、涙がこぼれた

It’s seven degrees Celsius at 1 AM. I was looking at myself in the mirror an hour ago, finally realizing my hair had gotten long. The hair that usually stays hidden behind my hijab. The hair that is usually held up by claw clips all day. So when I finally let it down, washed it, and let it hang straight, it looked so long—the longest it has been in the last six years.

But oh, how fast the night changes. I, who was so happy to see my long hair return, was weeping while listening to a song I discovered at the office yesterday. I couldn't shed a tear back then; how could I explain my sudden breakdown to four colleagues I only met two weeks ago? Ha, recently, I haven't even been able to cry in front of my significant other of six years.

It is what it is. When I finally found myself alone—a space to breathe and a time to pause—I felt my past self crawling out from deep within, complete with her dissatisfaction, insecurity, and disappointment: all the feelings you don't want keeping you company at 1 AM. Perhaps I’m just tired. Am I? What have I done? Oh, yes, starting this validation-seeking phase, hoping people tell me again and again that I’ve worked hard. I've been juggling my internship, my teaching hours, my schedule with the peer counseling community, my second bachelor's degree, and my social time meeting people here and there—whether old friends or new colleagues. I still remember thinking November was moving so slowly, but now three weeks have passed, and here I am asking what I’m doing with my life.

Just today—this morning, to be exact—I told myself that the present is better because I chose to focus on what is right in front of me. Why should I overthink the future when it only overwhelms me, triggering my lack of confidence and making me forget how many blessings God has already given me? But oh, how my mind loves to be at war with itself. Why do I take this life for granted, with all my privilege? Why doesn't it drive me to do something more tremendous and meaningful, not only for myself but also for people out there?

I remember how I facilitated a quarter-life crisis session two days ago; everything I said to those three university students was actually meant for me. I’m no better than they are. I fall back into self-doubt, into the vicious cycle of comparing myself to others despite how different our starting lines are. I feel so small, chilled, and freezing in this seven-degree end of autumn because I’m too frugal to turn on the heater. I feel how frigid my fingers are—is this what it feels like to have no soul left in this body?

But some people told me not to die yet because maybe my ears can still function to listen to people’s stories. Just yesterday, my PIC, who started working at the same company three months ago, told me that in those three months, her best time was when I started my internship. Are those things sufficient for me to feel worthy? Or, in the first place, did I never even need those validations because, just like Adler’s psychology says: we are already enough simply by being born into this world. It's the same thing my parents told me at a Sundanese restaurant years ago, when I held back my tears because I was too embarrassed to sob in front of my mom and dad, who have known me for almost 24 years.

I didn't expect this entry to be this gloomy. I thought I would just write about how glad I was to see my hair growing so long, and how pretty I felt, yet いつのまにか、こんな話になっちゃった。

I don’t even know what I should be thinking now that it's finally approaching 2 AM. I feel a bit of a headache—maybe I should sleep. Yes. It’s not the time to think anymore. Good night.