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I went shopping for clothing with my mother today.

It was potentially scary experience, you know? There’s just such a history of her trying to force me into masculine clothes, and even once I was living full time, trying to force me into very masculine but technically female clothes so as “not to upset anyone” and all kinds of ridiculous bullshit. I didn’t want this to be fighting about that sort of thing, and it seemed like it was going to be, as she’s super-concerned, for whatever reason, about what I am going to wear to that high school reunion. She even voiced concern that I would be “kicked out” which is ridiculous.

But it wasn’t that at all. I mean, I was as picky as I ever am about clothes and things of this nature, and she constantly had different ideas about what I should wear, so it was a lot of “No, mom, I don’t think that’ll work,” and so on… but we… you know. Went shopping for clothes as mother and daughter. And when we were done, it was kind of surprising to me how much that meant to me. She wasn’t going in there with some agenda. She seriously just wanted me to look good. We were doing a thing that mothers and daughters do.

My mom has done a lot of accepting, to be sure, but this… this just… it felt like proof, as opposed to just hearing it from her. I was in the women’s dressing room, trying stuff on, discussing these things, and again… it was… normal. It wasn’t awkward. It was just a thing we were doing.

Every time I think about it, it’s even more amazing to me. Maybe that’s silly.

Thanks, Mom.