Joy Family

Becoming Jerusha - Joy Family

Part 19: “In the Name of Joy”

Sunday Morning – Church Bells & Lessons

The Sunday after her friend’s visit arrived like a quiet drumbeat - soft sunlight on pale curtains, the gentle chime of anklets as she walked across the room.

Maria called from the kitchen, “Jerukutty, wear the lavender frock today - church kutty look.”

Kathir had no fight left in him. He wore the lavender frock. It was a high-collared, lace-trimmed cotton dress that ended just below the knees. Inside was a matching lavender bra, panty, and thin lace slip that rubbed gently as he walked. On his wrist, a delicate rose-gold bracelet dangled beside the platinum cross.

Hair was tied in a neat half ponytail with a small bow clip. Simple studs in the ears, and the scented talc Maria dusted under his chin made him feel like a birthday girl.

Stephen and Maria were already dressed, faces glowing with joy. They were going not just to church - but to Sunday School.

The hall was full of children and teens, most of them in small cliques. Kathir sat awkwardly on the girls’ side, with a tiny prayer book in one hand and Maria’s hope in the other.

The lesson was about forgiveness. The pastor’s daughter spoke gently to them about God’s love for his children.

That’s when he noticed a boy sitting across from him - probably his age, lean and tall, wearing a tucked shirt and silver watch. Their eyes met. The boy smiled, politely. Kathir looked away, heart racing.

After class, the boy approached and said, “Hey. I’m Reuben. New here?”

Kathir’s voice failed. He nodded and softly said, “Hmm… Jerusha.”

“Nice name,” Reuben smiled. “You from Daisy?”

He nodded again. The conversation ended awkwardly - but it left something behind. The shame of attraction, not to the boy… but of being perceived as a girl to him.

Sunday Evening – House to House

That evening, Maria took her on a walk around the neighborhood.

“Jerukutty, these are all people who knew of us but never saw you after we moved. You don’t have to talk much. Just smile, okay?”

She wore a yellow midi with flutter sleeves, matching shorts-style panties, and a thin cotton camisole. Anklets on both legs. The embarrassment was constant, but worse was how normal it had started to feel.

Each house had a different woman. Each smile was new. Every time, Maria introduced her warmly.

“This is my daughter, Jerusha.”

Some replied, “So pretty! You look just like your mother.”

Others said, “We thought your daughter was in Coimbatore school?”

Maria smiled tightly. “She was. But God wanted her closer to us now.”

They offered juice, sweets. Jerusha sat with knees together, sipping slowly, correcting her posture every second. One lady touched her cheeks and said, “You’ll be a heartbreaker soon.”

Back home, Kathir lay on the bed in the same dress, staring at the ceiling. The camisole’s bow was pressing against his chest. He didn’t change. He just let himself fall asleep.

Wednesday – Office Girl

That Wednesday, school ended early due to a staff meeting.

Stephen arrived in the Volvo to pick her up.

“Appa,” she said faintly, not even thinking.

“Princess,” he replied, opening the passenger door. “Want to come to my office for a bit?”

She was too tired to argue. She wore her usual school uniform - maroon skirt, shirt tucked tight, girl shoes, and beneath it all, the regulation white cotton bra and panty set.

At the office, the staff greeted her with folded hands. “Good morning, Miss Joy,” a man said as she walked through the lobby.

Inside the boardroom, Stephen gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

“This is my daughter, Jerusha. She’ll sit in today. Just ignore the princess in the corner.”

Everyone smiled warmly.

She sat through one hour of corporate talk about shares and logistics, sipping orange juice. When Stephen occasionally turned to check on her, his smile was… proud.

Afterward, he bought her a small silver pen. “First day at my office. A memory gift.”

She nodded, clutching it.

Friday – An Anniversary of Love

That Friday was special - Maria and Stephen’s 20th wedding anniversary.

The house was decorated with soft gold drapes, floating candles, and a cake that read Two Decades of Joy.

They gave her a dress. A pastel pink silk lehenga with floral embroidery, net dupatta, and mirror blouse. The blouse exposed her belly, where her skin now blended perfectly into the prosthetic line. She wore a strapless bra, matching panty, and was helped into body shimmer, a gold bangle set, and simple nose pin.

Her hair was curled into soft waves. Stephen applied a bindi on her forehead himself.

They wore matching beige silk. The three of them stood in front of a decorated backdrop that read “Joy Family”.

Someone held a phone.

“Smile!”

And in that moment, Maria kissed her right cheek, Stephen kissed her left, and everyone shouted,

“Joy!”

The flash captured them as they were: a family, impossibly constructed, terrifyingly complete.

That Night – A Realization in Reflection

Later that night, Jerusha removed her lehenga, cleaned her face, and changed into a long cotton nightgown with a printed floral pattern.

She stood in front of the mirror.

The girl in the reflection… she was tired. Gloss still clung to her lips, the faint perfume of jasmine around her collarbone.

She pulled open the diary again.

“Reuben smiled at me.
I was kissed today… as a daughter.

I keep thinking this is temporary.
But what if it’s not?

I used to think I was wearing Jerusha’s life.

But now…

Maybe she’s the one wearing me.”