Pretty Well

“Wait, how did you know it was me mom?!”

“How could I not recognize my own son! You may look different, but your still my spitting image! Come inside.”

The fact your mom recognized you without having to utter a single word, and that she was taking it so well left you completely shocked. Never in one thousand years would you have expected this to go so well.

Following your mother, you entered the house and seated yourself across from her in the living room.

“Now John,” your mother said, “I’m not going to be mad. But, are you… are you a drag queen?”

Your not sure which shocked you more. The idea the your extremely wholesome and innocent mom knew what a drag queen was, or that she genuinely thought that it was completely plausible you (John, her straight male son) were a drag queen.

“What?! No mom, this isn’t makeup or surgery, this is real. I woke up last Saturday as a girl.”

“Ok sweetness, this is just a little hard for me to warp my head around. How about you start from the beginning.”

And so, you recited all of the events leading up to this point. What origin started out as a mere explanation, however, quickly devolved into you soaking your mother’s shoulder in tears. When you final manage to finish your story, your mother turned to you and said,

“John, their’s only one part of your story I don’t believe, and that was when you called this a curse. Sweetness, as long your alive and well, nothing that happens to you could be anything less than a blessing from God so far as I’m concerned!”

“Oh mom!”

You lovingly embrace your mother crying into her shoulder yet again as she strokes your hair and repeatedly whispers, “everything will be fine sweetness, it’s all a part of God’s plan.”