Draped in Reality

The secret has been ours for sixteen years—mine and my mother’s. Whenever we are alone, I shed the skin the world sees and become myself. I am a woman, not by birth but by identity. With Amma’s guidance, I’ve learned it all—the drape of a saree, the art of makeup, how to walk in grace. I’ve kept a softly feminine physique, grown my hair to my shoulders, though for the outside, I add extensions, a wig, completing the girl I am inside. To everyone else, I am a slim, quiet man. But in our private world, I am simply me. I owe everything to Amma. She never questioned; she only taught, and I have always followed her lead.

It’s been three days since I first wore the bra. Suddenly, I started getting these urges to wear it again. But this time, I didn’t know how to bring it up with Mom. I wanted another chance, but the words just wouldn’t come.