I've gotten to the point where I'm honestly answering questions from my mom. I'm not out to her yet, 'cause she's been so bad about nonbinary transpeople in the past.
Last time she saw me, I was in a very loud pink shirt and some rather short shorts. To that, she said "do you have something you want to tell me?". "Nope." I'm very eloquent and long-winded, you see.
Today, I was wearing a burnt orange fitted tee, a dark gray cardigan, capri blue jeans, flip-flops with my nails dark purple. I'm kinda clashing. Whatever. I don't need to match to be cute. Eh... I don't even need to be cute anymore. She looks me over and says "Capris? Are you becoming a cross dresser?" Ready for my very eloquent, long-winded response? "Nope."
We were hanging out for a bit today, and while we were in the car, I was mulling over possible responses -- explaining that "cross dressing" is something that binary people do. That *all* clothes are gender-appropriate for me. That I'm not "becoming," I'm arrived. But... I didn't figure out how to say all I wanted to say by the time we went our separate ways, so I never came back to it.
Oh well. While I'm not exactly out, I'm not hiding anymore either. Feels good to be me. She's picking up the ever-more-obvious hints I'm dropping, so hopefully it'll make a bit more sense when I do finally fill her in.
