I'm Part Doll
Something about being somebody's something
He gave me a letter that first birthday. It said he understood me - in writing and form. I was twenty-eight. I cried.
We got married later that year.
I grew my hair out. He cut his short. We moved house twice. We have two boys. He brings me coffee in bed still. But I haven’t gotten too many letters. Sometimes I feel like something on a shelf.
*
Joe handed me the box after the boys fell asleep.
"It's for you," he said.
"But it says Joe," I said, looking at the label.
"Let's open it."
Joe cut the brown tape. I opened the box. There was white, unwrinkled tissue paper.
"It's different," he said. "Thought it would suit you."
It was red and pink lingerie. Well-made, with extra parts. Heart-shaped holes. Ruffles. I laughed out loud.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"It's something," I said.
There was a garter belt. Stockings. A bra with pleats and a matching pleated collar. White mesh gloves.
"Want to put it on?" he asked.
"Yes," I said. "Definitely."
Before twenty-eight, I wore black lingerie. Simple, see-through. I had a piercing. I hadn’t worn any of that since my boobs became a mom’s.
I went to the bathroom, leaving the door open. I put everything on. My hair was short again; Joe cut it himself recently, just below the ears.
"Joe," I called. "Look at me."
He looked. Really looked. He started laughing. He took my hands, and held them out.
"Take my photo," I said. I posed.
“Would ya look at you," he said. "Like it was made for you."
We both laughed until our faces hurt. An unusual dressing on my same old body.
I felt different in those clothes. Like a toy. A doll. No thoughts, I was there to be pretty. It felt good to stop thinking.
We did what married people do. We touched. We played. I kept everything on.
After, he said, "I don't know how to say it. But something in you is that."
"Yes," I said. "Thanks for finding it again."
*
In the photo, I see myself. I look hot. I see my crows feet. And there is life in my eyes.
The outfit is in the closet now. Unboxed, hanging. I wear the gloves sometimes. Even in the day.
Soundtrack:
Thank you for loving love with me, reader.
I’d love to hear from you in the comments.



It has been said “clothes maketh the man”. The reality is they can make us feel a million dollars. If only we would take the plunge
Lingerie has never been one of my turn ons, but your writing always provokes a response. Write on!