Today is a day to sparkle.

Not metaphorically. Not "in spirit." Actually, literally, unapologetically sparkle - because some days are simply born for glitter, for anticipation that tingles under the skin, for smiles that start before you even realize you’re smiling. Today is one of those days. Our boyfriend’s birthday. And my wife and I are just taking off, hearts already halfway there, bodies still in motion, minds buzzing like champagne bubbles that refuse to settle.

There is something magical about birthdays when you love deeply and in more than one direction. They are not just milestones of age, but celebrations of connection. They are excuses to pause ordinary time and say: you matter, you are cherished, you are worth effort, surprise, beauty, and a little bit of theatrical joy. And oh, do we intend to bring the theater.

The journey itself already feels ceremonial. Bags packed with care, playlists chosen with intention, little glances exchanged between my wife and me that say everything without words. We’ve done this before - surprising him, arriving with smiles that pretend to be casual while hiding weeks of planning - but each time feels new. That’s the gift, I think: even familiarity doesn’t dull the sparkle when affection keeps reinventing itself.

There’s a particular delight in knowing that, no matter how well he knows us, there will still be that moment. That heartbeat when he sees me and freezes just a second too long. That blink of surprise. That slow, appreciative smile. Because it’s always a surprise how I will dress up for his special day, and he loves that mystery almost as much as I do.

This year, the magic started with my wife’s find - a truly inspired discovery. A sparkling petticoat dress, playful and elegant at the same time, the kind of dress that doesn’t just hang on a body but participates in the moment. It shimmers when I move, catches light like it’s in on the secret, flares just enough to feel flirtatious without asking for permission. When she showed it to me, her eyes already told me what her mouth didn’t need to: this is the one.

I tried it on, and the room seemed to brighten in response. The petticoat gives the dress a joyful volume, a sense of celebration built right into its structure. It doesn’t whisper; it laughs. It doesn’t wait; it invites. I paired it with dotted tights - soft, playful polka dots that add a layer of charm, like punctuation marks of delight. And then the black high heels: classic, grounding, confident. They say, yes, this is fun - but I know exactly who I am.

Yes, this is fun - but I know exactly who I am

Standing there, dressed and ready, I caught my wife watching me with that look she gets - the one full of pride, affection, and shared anticipation. We’re doing this together. Always together. Different roles, different expressions, but one shared heartbeat. We both hope our boyfriend will be blown away, not just by the dress, but by what it represents: care, intention, love woven into fabric and choice.

The party itself already lives vividly in my imagination. His friends, laughter spilling over glasses, music floating in the background, that warm, slightly chaotic energy that only comes from people gathered for the right reason. And me, stepping into my role for the evening: waitress. It may sound simple to an outsider, but to me, it carries meaning. It’s not about service in a small sense - it’s about presence, about offering myself as part of the celebration, about embracing my place and role in our three-fold lives with grace and pride.

I will move between tables, trays balanced carefully, heels clicking softly like punctuation to the rhythm of the evening. Pouring drinks, exchanging smiles, leaning in to listen. Being useful, visible, playful. It’s an honor, truly. Not everyone gets to express love this way, to turn devotion into motion, into small acts repeated again and again through the night. I don’t feel diminished by it - I feel elevated. Chosen. Seen.
And yes, I know him well enough to know what will happen.

No matter how busy the room is, no matter how many friends surround him, his eyes will find me. Over and over again. Following each of my steps, lingering just a moment longer than necessary. There will be that unmistakable look - half admiration, half quiet pride. Maybe a touch of disbelief that this sparkling, moving presence is his special girl, choosing to orbit his celebration.

That look is one of my favorite gifts.

It’s not possessive. It’s not demanding. It’s warm and full, like someone savoring a moment they know is rare and precious. I imagine him watching the dress sway as I walk, the dots on my tights flashing in playful rhythm, the heels asserting confidence with every step. I imagine his smile when our eyes meet across the room - an unspoken conversation that says: I see you. I appreciate you. I’m so glad you’re here.

Birthdays have a way of doing that - of sharpening awareness. Of reminding us that love is not abstract, but lived. That it shows up in choices, in outfits, in roles embraced willingly. In travel plans and careful surprises. In standing proudly where you belong.

As we get closer now, as the distance between anticipation and reality shrinks, I feel that familiar flutter in my chest. The good kind. The kind that makes you sit a little straighter, breathe a little deeper. This isn’t nervousness - it’s excitement refined by trust. I know who we are to each other. I know the joy we bring into his life, and he into ours. Today is simply about letting that joy overflow.

Soon, very soon, we’ll arrive. There will be hugs, laughter, maybe a surprised exclamation when he sees me. The night will unfold the way good nights do: imperfectly, beautifully, full of moments you wish you could bottle but can only live.

And through it all, the sparkle will remain - not just in the dress, not just in the heels, but in the way love moves when it is free, proud, and shared.

Today is a day to sparkle ✨ 🎉 💖 🥂 And we are ready.