Two months ago, Joel found out he was being made redundant.
He took it in his stride—just like he always does—
with that quiet strength and soft smile that make him who he is.
But I know my Joel.
And as the days passed and the workload thinned,
so did his sparkle.
Not all at once, but gradually—
until I saw a dullness behind his eyes
that I hadn’t seen before.
Then came the offer—
a temporary position at Sure,
the place where it all began for him,
the roots of his IT career.
And with it, the light came back.
Not just the light of being busy again,
but the light of being wanted,
valued,
respected.
I nudged him to go to those farewell drinks on Friday—
to stand among his friends and hear the truth
he too often forgets:
That he matters.
That he’s good at what he does.
That he’s more than the quiet self-doubt
he’s carried for far too long.
Hearing what his colleagues had to say about him
made me want to shout it from the rooftops—
I see it too.
I always have.
Today, he started his new job.
And I’m just so, so proud.
Proud of how he handled the uncertainty.
Proud of how he kept showing up.
Proud of how he never let it break him.
I love him more than words will ever fully hold,
and I can’t wait for the day I get to marry him.
My sun. My Joel.
He shines brighter than he knows.