Building A New Shell To Grow Into

20260620

Prompt from “pridemonthprompts” 2025 list.

These characters were previously seen here, which is the future for them.

Mum is bubbling over with her usual DIY fever. At least I don’t have to fret about whether she resents helping me with this. “Now, what you do is, you put stripes of each colour paint in a couple of spots around the room, where the light’s different. So you can see how they ‘feel’ at different times of day, and such.”
“Ok.” I look around at the barely-bare walls. “Should, um, should we take the posters down first?”
“Well… that depends.” Mum gives me an uncertain, measuring look. “Are you going to want to keep any of them? If so, they should stay up, so you can judge what paints they go with.”
“I… don’t… know.” I scruff my foot through the carpet, which is still the same grey from when we moved in. I always told them not to worry about changing it, and only recently figured out why.
The posters are a similar conundrum. I do like them, I even have fond memories attached to some, but… they make it look a lot more like a girl’s room. Which was kind of the point at the time. Finding ways of presenting as a girl which weren’t too uncomfortable.
Mum rests a hand on my shoulder. Her smile is… lost. Not understanding. She can’t understand, not really. But the expression is loving, and patient, and supportive, and her voice is the same warm brisk tone she’s always used when helping me make decisions. “We can put them to the side for now, and decide later. We could even get you a… what are they called? The folding-out displays for posters and such. So they’re there, but you don’t have to look at them if it’s not comfortable.”
“That…” I smile and gulp back the lump in my throat. “That might be really nice.”
“Pretty sure that’s one of those projects your dad’s always wanted an excuse to do, too, so it’ll be great fun for the pair of you!”
Mum reaches up and starts delicately removing the posters. I start next to her, working in the other direction. It only takes a few minutes to convert my entire decoration system into a pile of tidy rolls, leaving the room looking so empty.
“Right, so, if we look at how light’s coming in the window…”
I try to listen as Mum prattles on about colour values and reflection and stuff, then we dab paint in the spots she chooses.
“There! Now, it’s important to think about how the colour will feel when it’s surrounding you.” Mum waves her arms at the space. “A difference of a few shades can turn a decorating scheme from cosy to stifling. And remember, just…”
She pauses, brows furrowing, constructing the sentence with great care before she lets it out. “Just because we now know you’re a boy, don’t feel you have to give up bright colours. Alright? There’s as many ways to be a boy as there are boys to be!”
Hearing the exact flip of the line her and Dad had used on me so many times makes me tear up. The other version was always distressing, all the more so because I couldn’t articulate why it hurt to be told anything I did was girly by dint of me ‘being a girl’. But I know exactly why this version fills my chest with warmth. Hope. Possibilities.
“Y-yeah.” I look at the varied blues and oranges decorating key parts of my space. “I think the sky blue looks nicest. And that’s a, a cheerful colour, right?”
“It is. Keep thinking about it for a few days, and make sure you look at them at different times of day, and once you’re sure we’ll get everything ordered. Oh, and remember, we don’t have to do every wall the same colour! We could, oh, paint the wall around the window a bright colour and make it a statement wall. Since it’s shorter, it shouldn’t be overwhelming. Or the opposite wall, of course…”
She’s off in full DIY flow again, me just nodding along. But it’s nice. Nice that she’s treating this like just another family project. Nice that she’s bursting with enthusiasm and a million ideas, yet taking pains to present them as mere ideas, because after all this is My Space.
That’s how they’ve always treated it. Ever since I was old enough to have opinions.
And… looking around the room now we’ve taken the posters down, I’m struck by how… neutral it is. White walls. Grey carpet. All my furniture is white or black or brown. The only splash of colour left is my Princess Peony bedspread.
“Would you like to, um, refresh your bed too?” Mum must’ve followed my gaze. “I mean, you’re bigger now, and…”
“Maybe?” I hadn’t thought about the bed itself. But it makes sense to consider that with… everything else. Especially if I’m replacing all my bedding.
“We can browse a few furniture sites and you can think about what styles you like. Might be sensible to have one a bit taller. Then you can put proper storage underneath. After all, you’re a big boy now.”
I’m sure that one day, hearing her talk about me like that won’t make my weepy with joy. Just like I’m sure some day I’ll stop treasuring that mug she gave me, or the tie Dad bought me - and taught me how to knot.
But right now, standing in a space that’s still very much mine, even if I haven’t quite figured out what “me” means, awash in love and possibilities, I’m just so very grateful.

Prompt was “Redecorating”.