A little celebration of you

Happy Birthday, Fatima.

For the laughs, the quiet moments, and every small thing worth keeping.

Fatima in a pink striped shirt, leaning on a railing and smiling off to the side at sunset.

A birthday note

You deserve a day that feels every bit as special as you are.

So I made you something that felt like you: simple, thoughtful, a little pretty, and full of memories.

May this year bring you more reasons to smile, more moments worth keeping, more things to build, and more days you’ll want to remember.

Happy birthday, Fatima.

Chapter one

First, just you.

Golden hour, a dark cinema, a mountain of snow — somehow always you.

Fatima smiling with her eyes closed, hands resting against her cheeks, in warm evening light. — Golden hour, eyes closed.

Fatima in an oversized grey sweatshirt in a dark cinema, eyes closed, hands pressed to her cheek. — At the movies.

Fatima sitting in deep snow under a bright blue sky, tossing snow into the air. — Snow day.

Fatima resting her head on her hand in low light, smiling softly at the camera.

Chapter two

Us, in the little moments.

Not every memory has to be perfect to become a favorite.

The two of us sitting on a low wall, turned toward each other and smiling. — Somewhere between a joke and a smile.

The two of us sitting side by side on the same low wall, smiling at the camera.

A selfie of the two of us on a city street, with stone buildings and blue sky behind.

A close selfie of the two of us; Fatima rests her cheek on her hand and smiles.

The two of us standing on a glass walkway between tall buildings; Fatima holds up a peace sign.

A selfie in a tech shop; behind me, Fatima poses with her chin in her hands, smiling. — Tech shop, obviously.

A selfie taken from below against a clear blue sky, both of us laughing. — Blue sky, good day.

The best memories are usually the ones where nobody was trying to make a memory.

Chapter three

The unserious ones.

Peace signs, pouts, pizza, and laughing too hard to pose.

At an outdoor table under the trees, both of us laughing behind our hands. — Whatever it was, it was very funny.

A selfie in a shop; behind me, Fatima pouts and holds up a peace sign.

A selfie where Fatima pouts and holds a peace sign in the background.

At the same outdoor table: two thumbs pointed her way while Fatima pretends to fall asleep on her hands. — Listening, clearly.

In the kitchen: an open pizza box held up for the camera while Fatima hides half her face behind a container of food. — Dinner, served.

The two of us walking across a blue padel court at night, rackets in hand. — Padel night.

Fatima wrapped in a blanket on the sofa, smiling with her cheek in her hand, while I grin at the camera. — Cozy mode.

On the glass walkway: a thumbs-up in front, Fatima walking up behind.

Chapter four · Family

Home is these faces.

Before every other chapter, there was this one — your family, and the love you come from.

Fatima with her family on a sunlit forest path, the three of them standing arm in arm. — A walk in the forest, arm in arm.

A kiss on the cheek for a smiling Fatima, among the trees.

Fatima on a tree-lined path, standing between a man on a bicycle and a woman in a burgundy scarf. — Same path, same day.

And everyone who makes it feel like home.

A little piece of the beginning

Every version of you belongs in the story.

An old printed photograph of Fatima as a baby in a white jumper, sitting on an open drawer and smiling at the camera. — the very beginning

An old printed photograph of three small children smiling, cheek to cheek, on a floral sofa. — little ones

A little side quest

We made things, too.

Ideas, work, a little chaos, a first deploy — and a cake to mark it. The kind of moment that becomes part of the story later.

Fatima holding a decorated cake beside a gold poster that reads Webloom First Deploy; both of us smiling. — Webloom, first deploy. “The first of many,” as the poster says.

A silhouette photographing the sun as it sets over the sea.

Keep this feeling

Some moments don’t need a caption.

They just need to be remembered exactly the way they felt.

A bouquet of yellow tulips held close. — little things

One more scroll

Every little piece of the story.

Tap any photo to see it properly.

The two of us at a restaurant table; Fatima holds a lit sparkler and smiles down at a dessert.

One last thing

Happy Birthday,
Fatima.

I hope the next chapter is your favorite one yet.