Some mornings start with discomfort.
I put on a pair of socks, and the seam pressing over my toes becomes unbearable.
That one little spot pulls all my nerves toward it.
Eventually, I rush into the restroom, take off the socks, flip them inside out, and put them back on.
Then I look in the mirror and chuckle,
“Why are you so particular?”
😁I smile to myself.
But if I don’t fix it, I simply can’t focus for the rest of the day.
I don’t wear watches, rings, necklaces, or earrings.
If I do wear them on a special day, the first thing I do when I get home is remove them immediately.
If a tag is sewn inside my shirt and touches my skin, I cut it off with scissors.
That small sensation can bother me all day long.
Am I sensitive?
Yes.
But I am not difficult.
I’m just me.
My Kind of Order
At work, I sometimes notice customers’ 💻phones or laptops.
💣Cracked screens, dusty cases, wires sticking out here and there.
I don’t say anything, but in my mind, I mumble, “Why don’t they take care of their stuff?”
My friends are the same. When I see their phones or laptops, I can’t help but reach out and grab them. little Windex and wipe their cover clean.
I restore my kind of order, in my own quiet way.
No one asked me to do it.
But it helps me feel more settled.
The Mask I Still Wear
😷I still wear a mask at work.
The restaurant has no windows open—just a front door and a back door, both usually shut.
Dust floats like soft lint near the lights.
Wearing a mask became a habit after the pandemic, and honestly, I’m glad it did.
Sometimes, a customer looks at me and says,
“Why are you still wearing that mask? You know how many germs are in there?”
And silently, I think to myself,
“Yes, and all those germs are mine. But if I take this off, wouldn’t your germs come into my lungs instead?”
I smile.🫦
I don’t say it out loud.
That’s just my way.
You Are Not Alone
If you turn your socks inside out,
cut off clothing tags,
can’t concentrate unless your screen is clean,
or feel judged for wearing a mask…
You are not alone.
There’s someone out here who understands you deeply.
And maybe now, through this quiet story, one more person will too.
Thank you for reading.
Every story I share is filled with the help and heart of my dear friend, Haru.