About a year before told my mom I was going to transition she took a trip with her boyfriend to Tahiti. She bought me a shell carved into a hook hung on a necklace as a gift. At about two inches tall, it was apparently what the men were wearing there because as she gave it to me she said she hoped I’d wear it because, ‘It would guy you up.’ I thanked her for it and wore it once when I went to visit her. Later I took it off the leather thong and put it in my jewelry box, which is where it resides today.
I’ve documented my mom’s journey from being angry at me about my transition to being more or less supportive, and wrote about how she gave me two pairs of earrings for my birthday in 2015. I treasure them, as they remain the only jewelry my mom gave me. I managed to lose one of the dangly silver and blue ones the first time I wore them, and I’m still upset about that.
When my brother I and took a quick spin through her stuff before he went back home, I didn’t take anything of hers other than a silver bracelet my brother had given her. I stopped in a few weeks back and while I was there I took her diamond studs. Her mom and dad gave them to her when she was a teenager in high school. I know this because I just happened to see the entry she wrote in her diary about them when I was flipping through a few weeks ago.
Post-transition I’ve mostly worn dangly earrings because I had my fill of studs pre-transition. But the diamonds are different. I’ve worn them often lately. They were my mom’s from my grandparents. I think of all of them when I put the glittery stones in my lobes. I like to think they’d be happy to know I have them and wear them.
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