When Freya was little, she was… let's say, energetic. Some dads dream of quiet, studious daughters. I got fireworks.
At school plays, she was the child who improvised her lines. At sports day, she was the one who started a conga line instead of running the race. And at home, she was the one who painted the dog pink 'because Barbie needed a pony'.
She's always been spirited, bold, and utterly impossible to ignore. Watching her grow into the person she is now – still spirited, still bold, but also wise and kind – has been the greatest joy of my life. So let's raise a glass to Freya – my firecracker, my daughter, and now, a wife.
May her spirit keep lighting up every room she walks into. To Freya.
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