While cleaning her teen son’s room, a woman stumbled upon an unfamiliar bag in his closet. When she opened it, she was shocked to see a skirt and high heels. “Whose are these?” she wondered, unaware that they belonged to her son.
“Molly, you are so lucky to have a husband like Stephen,” my friends would say every time we would talk about my marriage when I was in my twenties.
I had always dreamt of getting married at an early age to the love of my life, but what happened in the years after my marriage tested my patience. I wasn’t ready for any of it.
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We had planned to have a baby in the first year of our marriage, but fate had other plans. My heart would skip a beat every time I saw a positive pregnancy test, but weeks later, I would cry sitting on my bed, wondering why I had lost my child.
When I conceived again after two consecutive miscarriages, the doctors suggested hormone therapy in the first trimester to keep my baby safe. Ultimately, I was able to give birth to my son at 34.
Holding my son Jim for the first time in my arms was surreal. I spent hours looking at his delicate fingers and tiny feet, thinking how lucky I was to have such a beautiful baby. Stephen and I loved Jim immensely and provided him with everything he needed.
As Jim grew older, I began spoiling him with my laundry allowance. I bought him candies and toys, while Stephen always bought boxing gloves for Jim, hoping he would become a boxer one day.
This looks like a girl’s bag. I don’t think it belongs to Jim, I thought to myself and pulled the bag out.
However, Jim was more interested in dancing. Stephen would scold him whenever Jim told him he wanted to be a professional dancer instead of a boxer. Soon, their relationship began deteriorating, and Jim felt scared of Stephen.
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As a teenager, Jim isn’t like other boys his age. He enjoys his own company and never mingles with girls, not that I know of. My friends tell me their sons often invite their girlfriends over, but I have never seen any of Jim’s girlfriends in our house.
Whenever I told my friends about Jim, they would tell me his behavior wasn’t normal, but I never paid attention to them. I think every child has a different personality, and Jim is just an introvert.
However, I felt slightly concerned when Jim stopped letting me into his room. I think he doesn’t want his 49-year-old mother snooping around, but part of me was curious to find out if he was hiding something from me.
While I was still wondering how to talk to Jim about it, our doorbell rang early in the morning, and when I went to open the door, a courier handed me a parcel with Jim’s name on it.
What is this? I wondered and put the table on the kitchen island to fetch a pair of scissors. Right when I was about to open the box, Jim snatched it from me and took it into his room without saying anything. That’s strange, I wondered.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
A few days later, when Jim went to the grocery store to buy a few things, I went into his room to clean it. There was a pile of clothes on his bed, so I opened his wardrobe to put them inside when a bag caught my attention.
This looks like a girl’s bag. I don’t think it belongs to Jim, I thought to myself and pulled the bag out. What I saw inside was something that left me shocked.
The bag had a skirt, high heels, and some makeup. Why would Jim keep these things in his wardrobe? I wondered and waited for him to return.
“Jim, are these your things?” I asked him once he returned home.
“No, Mom,” Jim smiled and took the bag from my hands. “A friend asked me to order these online for her. I will give them to her tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay,” I breathed a sigh of relief, unaware that a greater shock awaited me.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Two days later, I came home from work an hour early. As I entered the house, I saw Jim’s shoes and realized he was home, so I headed toward his room to ask him if he was hungry.
As I came near his room, I saw a moving shadow on the door and Jim singing a song in a faint voice. What’s happening? I wondered. I tiptoed and peeked inside his room, trying not to alarm him.
What I saw inside left me terrified. I saw Jim wearing the same skirt and heels I saw in his wardrobe. He was applying lipstick while looking in the mirror and didn’t notice me.
I’m in shock, and I don’t know what to do. Should I talk to him? I can’t share this with Stephen. As I write this, he is at work and will return anytime.