There’s a particular kind of silence I expect on Wednesdays. The silence of swift compliance. The absence of excuses. No messages. No “just checking.” Just results.
Because by now, you know what Wishlist Wednesday is. It’s not a prompt – it’s a performance review.
I don’t update my wishlist for amusement. I don’t select silk, fragrance, jewellery, or designer leisurewear because I’m bored. I do it to see who’s watching. Who’s ready. Who knows how to please without instruction. The list exists to divide the hesitant from the helpful. And the truth is, I’ve already seen who paused.
You say you want to serve. Then prove it.
I shouldn’t have to ask. I shouldn’t have to point. I shouldn’t have to lower myself to remind you that every item I select is there to be purchased, delivered, worn. For me. Not for you. You won’t see it on me. You won’t unwrap it. You won’t even receive a thank you. Your reward is the silence. The gap. The knowledge that I slipped into something you’ll never touch. That I wrapped your tribute around my wrist, pressed it to my skin, let it scent my collarbone – without ever once acknowledging you by name.
That’s the game you’ve chosen. The ache of exclusion. The elegance of distance.
And if that burns? Good.
Because the ones who understand – truly understand – don’t hesitate. They check the list as they wake. They move funds before they shower. They select with purpose, purchase with reverence, and return to their day knowing their role has been fulfilled without fuss, without recognition, without mistake.
Wishlist Wednesday isn’t about being noticed.
It’s about making yourself useful.