The Night I Became Her Other Mom

A Father’s Doubt

“I feel like a failure,” Jack moaned, slumping over the bar. One arm cradled his head; the other nursed his fifth, or maybe sixth, glass of whiskey.

“Jack, darling,” his friend next to him lisped. A comforting, well-manicured hand went down on Jack’s shoulder. “You’re doing fine. It isn’t the end of the world, and you’re handling it better than my dad when he found out about my proclivities.“ His friend took a sip of his fruity drink.

It was true that when Mark’s dad found out he was gay, he was livid. He had kicked Mark out of the house and had him living on the streets for years. Mark was homeless until he found a steady-paying job as a drag queen for the local bar. Jack’s dad had nearly kicked him out when Jack asked if Mark could live with them for a few days.

A New Kind of Challenge

But this was different, right? Mark was a boy who liked boys; that was a preference. But his son…his son was now his daughter. That was something that would need surgery. Hormones. Change. Buying his son a bra was something Jack had done recently.

Jack took a deep breath, feeling the alcohol burn his throat. “But Mark, it’s so hard. I don’t know what to say to him. What to do. What if I mess it up?”

“Well, first off, Jack, sweetie, stop calling her a ‘him’.”

Jack looked up with a start, his eyes wide. “Oh, right. Her.” He took another sip of his drink.

“Secondly, you’re not a failure because you’re trying.” Mark’s smile was genuine. “Why don’t you start by listening to her, you know? Like really listening. I don’t know, try to think of yourself in her shoes.”

The Idea That Changed Everything

Jack furrowed his brow, considering this. He had tried, but so far it has all been a failure. “But how do I do that? I don’t know the first thing about it. Heck, my dad beat me when I played with my sister’s dolls that one time.”

Mark leaned closer, his eyes sparkling with an idea. “Why don’t you walk in her shoes for a day or so. Become a woman, see her struggles.”

Jack snorted, “You mean like dress up and stuff?” He couldn’t imagine the stubble-faced man he saw in the mirror every morning as anything other than a man.

“More than that, Jack. Live as a woman. Go out in public, interact, get a taste of what she goes through.” Mark’s voice was earnest, his hand squeezing Jack’s shoulder gently. “Connect with her through her story.”

Trying on a New Identity

Jack’s expression went from skeptic to contemplative. “But where do I even start?”

“Well, lucky for you, big guy,” Mark said with a wink. “You got someone who’s an expert on the matter of becoming a woman.”

They left the bar and went back to Jack’s apartment. Mark pulled a bag filled with what appeared to be women’s clothes out of his car and brought it in. He pulled out a pair of padded bra inserts. “These are called breast forms,” Mark said, holding them up with a flourish. “They’re pretty lifelike, especially in clothes. Since your daughter can’t start hormones for a while, she probably wears these too.”

Taking them with trepidation, Jack held them up in front of him. He could feel the weight and texture of the silicone bags. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have breasts.

With Mark’s instruction and a little help from him on the clasp, Jack put on a lacy bra. Then he put the two silicone mounds into them. Feeling the weight of them pulling at his bra.

The next item Mark pulled out was a short, low-cut red dress. “This should fit you nicely,” Mark said with a smirk as he handed it over. “It’s one of my backups for when I’m feeling frisky.”

The Reflection and the Revelation

Jack took a deep breath and pulled the dress over his head. It was tighter than any shirt he had ever worn, clinging to his body like a second skin.

He felt exposed, vulnerable. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. The neckline was so low that it showed the tops of his broad shoulders and the lacy edges of the bra.

With a sigh, Jack let Mark help him apply makeup. Mark started with the foundation, applying a light shade to Jack’s entire face. Smoothing out any of the rough patches. Then, some red blush to his cheeks and a redder application of lips. Then a bit of night black was added to his eyes. Mascara and eyeliner.

Mark stepped back and gave his approval.

It was late that night. Sera would be home soon. Jack paced between the hallway and the kitchen. Back and forth in the living room. He was unsteady on his feet. Whether that was the nerves or the heels he had been training to walk in all day, he couldn’t tell.

As the front door opened. Jack felt himself wobble once more.

Sera walked in.

Sera took a step closer, her curiosity piqued. “Dad?” she questioned, her voice a mix of surprise and amusement.

Jack had a nervous smile as he smoothed the fabric of the dress over the artificial hips. He watched his daughter’s reaction. He felt more self-conscious than ever before in his life as he caught his breath and spoke, “Yeah, it’s me. I…I wanted to understand. See what you see.”

There was a look of apprehension on Sera’s face. She was watching her dad carefully, her eyes sparked with affection. “Wow, Dad. I can’t believe you did this.” She gave him a gentle hug before taking a step back and looking him over once more. “You look good.”

“Thanks,” Jack murmured. “Mark helped a lot with the look. The whole idea was his, actually.”

“Well, what about those heels? Can you walk in them?” Sera said a look of mischief danced in her own eyes.

“It’s… It’s harder than it looks,” he admitted with a chuckle, his cheeks now a deep shade of red. “But I’m getting there.”

Invitation to the Dance

Sera’s grin widened at her father’s attempt to walk in the heels. “What about dancing in them?” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye. She had an idea. “Why don’t you come with me to the club tonight?”

“I-I don’t think so,” Jack said, his gaze dropping to the floor. The idea was terrifying. A little thrilling, though. And that thought was even more terrifying.

“I do it all the time,” Sera whispered in Jack’s ear. “I go out all the time like this. I want you to experience the same thing I do. The same thrill and excitement. You told me about how your dad treated you when he found you playing with dolls.”

Jack nodded, remembering the sting of the belt, the harsh words.

“When I came out, and you shared that story with me, I had a feeling,” Sera gushed. “A feeling that you shoved your feelings down. I was afraid you’d shove my feelings down as your dad did. But instead, I am bringing those feelings back in you.”

“What do you mean?”

The Mirror and the Memory

Sera’s hand brushed against her father’s chin. Lifting his gaze and directing it to the hallway. Down the hallway was a full-length mirror. A mirror that Jack had avoided looking at. He felt his breath grow shallow.

There she was. A woman from Jack’s childhood. A woman Jack could remember vividly imagining, if only for a brief few moments. The moments when he played with dolls. When his younger sister convinced him to play house and be the mommy.

He thought she was long gone.

His father’s words echoed in his head, “It’s just a phase. The boy will grow out of it. It’s not natural.”

He had choked these words back when Sera had come out to him. But he remembered them. He remembered how they burned.

Sera’s hand tugged at his arm once more. “Come on,” she encouraged. “Let’s have some mother-daughter bonding time at the club.”