When I was younger, just like most girls, I dreamt of the perfect man.

He will be somebody with all the trappings…and of course, he will be handsome too. For me, he is a tall, a bit dark (mestizo boys were never my type), lanky guy with nice eyes.

I guess, for all women its safe to assume that dream never fades as time goes by. It just gets reinforced and maybe a bit tweaked on our personal ideas of what those trappings would be. As a 25-year-old, it’s a bit presumptuous to list down my realizations about this dream. Maybe it’s a bit too early to tell…or maybe I’m just lucky to realize it early on.

…It’s not about having somebody to give me a dream wedding but having that somebody to immerse in all the shimmer and brouhaha of weddings with the same level of excitement no other man has ever known because he knows it will make me happy.

…It’s not about having somebody to buy me gifts and bags (although it’s big plus) but having somebody to give these gifts not because I asked him too or because he's trying to impress me and the people around me but because he tries to learn about my world and its unique language (Neverfull? Lambskin? Vernis?)

…It’s not about having the richest husband but having the most generous and more importantly, the kindest one.

When I was a little girl, I dreamt of the perfect man.

I grew up…and married him.

Happy birthday my love.