My Husband Canceled My Birthday Dinner So His Friends Could Watch the Game at Our House — He Regretted It
I’m not dramatic. I don’t need grand gestures or rose petals.
Just once a year—on my birthday—I want a little effort. A little, “I’m glad you’re here.”
Last year, my husband, Kyle, forgot. This year, I planned my own dinner—candles, roast lamb, his favorite dessert, the works. I wanted to feel seen.
He walked in laughing—with friends, beer, and pizza.
No “happy birthday.”
Just noise.
He looked at the table and said, “Oh right… this was tonight? We’ll reschedule.”
Then he took the lamb I’d made—for me—and fed it to his friends.
Something inside me went quiet.
I smiled, walked to the fuse box, and turned off the power. The house went dark.
While they scrambled, I packed the leftovers, grabbed my keys, and left.
At my parents’ house, there were balloons, cake, and laughter that felt real.
For the first time in years, I felt seen.
The next morning, Kyle said, “You’re mad? Over dinner?”
I handed him a box. Inside: blank divorce papers.
“I’m not mad,” I said softly. “I’m done being invisible.”
I lit one candle before I left.
Its glow was small—but steady.
Because I found my power in the dark.
