Unapologetic (LGBTQ+ Trans MxM)

Chapter 5

I walked Isabel down the stairs before waving her goodbye as she ran out the door, rushing to get home on time.
I closed the door. When will I see her again? When I first saw her I thought that I'd hate her. You know what they say, don't judge a book by it's cover, but everyone still always does, even me. I turned around and walked through the narrow hallway towards the stairs. I had my foot on the first step when my dad called out.
'Hey Madelyn? Could you get me a coke from the fridge?'
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, I got off the stairs and walked towards the kitchen, passing the front door. Dad was watching soccer on the TV in the living room. I was really hoping dad wouldn't notice my new look.
I took a can of coca cola out of the fridge and walked through the living room to my dad. He was lying on the couch, staring at the tv screen, watching guys kicking a ball around. I put the can on the table next to the couch.
'Thanks honey,' My dad said as he looked up at me.
I turned around quickly. I hoped that he hadn't seen it. I started walking away. I wanted to go up the stairs, back to my room. Away from here. But dad had noticed it.
'Wait! What was that on your face?'
'Nothing,'
'Turn around, let me see.'
I took a deep breath and turned around to face my dad. My dad stood up from the couch and walked towards me to inspect my face from closer up. His expression said it all. He had a frown and looked at me like I was a piece of dogshit on the bottom of his shoe. He rubbed the side of my cheek with his left hand and looked at the make-up that was now stuck on his thumb.
'What is this?'
'Uhm, it's make-up, dad'
Dad shook his head.
'No, this isn't make-up. Make-up makes you look pretty, you look like a guy.'
That's the point, I wanted to say. But I stopped myself, he'd only hate me more for it.
'This is disgusting. Get rid of it.' He said while he turned around and walked back to the coach he was sitting on earlier. Leaving me standing in the middle of the living room.
My breath quickened. Why was it so difficult for people to just accept me for who I am? I don't want to get rid of the make-up that covers up my feminine features. That makes me feel more like me. I deserve to be happy, just like everyone else.
'What are you waiting for?' My dad yelled when he realised I was still standing there, 'Go clean up.'
But I didn't, I stayed right where I was.
My dad stood up from the couch and walked towards me, his feet stomping on the ground. He grabbed my shirt and violently pushed me against the wall. Pain spread through my back.
'I told you to clean up your face, why won't you? huh?'
'Because I don't want to,' I whispered so quietly that I could barely hear my own voice.
'What did you say?'
'I said that I didn't want to,' I said a little louder. There was a lump in my throat. An unpleasant feeling making it feel like you can't talk, even if there is nothing else holding you back.
My dad dragged me around the room. Pushing me violently. I felt a sharp pain in my side.
I had hit the corner of the kitchen counter and fell on the ground. I was lying on the ground, hopelessly looking up. Dad was standing over me, flames in his eyes.
'You are a girl, you've always been a girl. Nothing is éver going to change that. So start acting like a goddamn girl!' He yelled it in my face. A truth I had always been scared of. Whatever I made myself believe, I would never be a real boy. I will always be stuck as a girl.
'You always wanted a son,' I said. 'Now you've got one, and it's still not good enough.'
I stood up, my whole body was aching. My back hurt and a painful bruise was forming in my side.
'I just want you to act normal,' he said. 'Is that too much to ask?'
'Normal doesn't exist, dad. And yes, it is too much to ask.'
I ran upstairs, through the hallway, all the way to my room, my safe place, and shut the door. I lowered myself down with my back touching the wood. Tears streamed down my face. I looked at the vanity table my parents had given me for my birthday, I looked at all the makeup. The unopened boxes. The lipstick that was neatly arranged by colour. I looked at the unused foundation. At the eyeshadow that I used only once, to try to fit in, to finally be accepted by my parents. To finally be loved. I remember how I cried, looking at myself in the mirror right after I put it on. It was hideous. It wasn't me. I hadn't slept that night. I was just lying in my bed, tears wetting my pillow. I was bawling my eyes out because I just simply couldn't be normal. But I also realised something. Normal is a fable, normal is a myth, a story society tells you so that it can control you. Normal doesn't exist. And I will not contribute to something that doesn't exist. I will not bow to something that doesn't let me be myself. I will not believe in an idea that hurts me and so many others. I refuse to be anything different than myself. And I will not apologize for it.