The Unlocked Door

It was the look on her face that affected me the most. Was it disappointment? Was it disgust? She didn't look angry, just shocked as she slammed the door and ran down the stairs.

It was my own bloody fault. I had let her down, just like I had let everyone down all my life. If only I'd locked the door. I always locked the door. It must have been the excitement.

I had just got a makeup kit from a sale of unsold Christmas gifts from the supermarket. It had everything in it. I remember my heart pounding when I saw it. What would they think at the checkout? Then I realized I could use the self-checkouts. I threw a few other things in my basket so I would not attract attention. It's funny how people like me seem to treat the need to dress as women as if it's a crime we need excuses for.

I remember thinking on the way home of ways to sneak it in if mum was back from work. I was going to hide it in the garden, then sneak out after dark. It was like I was smuggling drugs or porn. This was just a makeup kit, but I was a guy, so it was forbidden.

Mum wasn't in, so I took it straight upstairs and hid it at the back of my cupboard where I keep my small collection of clothes. The clothes mainly came from mum's old stuff she was donating to charity. She had left the bag in my room for me to add my unwanted clothes too. The temptation was too much. I had taken a black elasticated calf-length skirt, a dark purple nylon blouse, and a worn pair of ballet flats. They were the only ones in the bag that fit me.

The underwear I had taken from her drawer. They were right at the back. They were a pretty set of black and red lace bra and knickers. There were others just as pretty pushed to the rear of the drawer too. I guessed this was the sexy stuff that she hadn't worn since dad died.

He died when I was 12. Everyone told me I would have to grow up and be the man of the house. I try. I really do, but at 20 I finally realized that there is no fighting what I am. I always felt out of place growing up. I made friends with the girls at school. I wanted to play with them, not the boys. I got called soft by the other boys, or worse.

My father offered to take me to football and fishing. I tried and hated it. My biggest regret is that I wasn't the son he wanted me to be. I was quiet and withdrawn.

I realized what I was by reading the newspapers and watching TV. I knew I was transgender. Who would want to be that? They were laughed at and made fun of. TV programs showed unshaven, hairy men in dresses trying to kiss men in bars. Women's rights groups screamed that they should be kept out of their toilets as they were not women.

I never saw anything positive about transgender women, so I knew I could never tell anyone. Now, mum had caught me dressed It was all over now. She would hate me. I had tried to resist it all my life and had mostly. The stress of my dad's death and the long hours I was working at the petrol station, it had made me feel relaxed.

I had always locked the door. I would tell mum I was having a sleep before my 10 PM shift started. Then lock the door and dress for an hour before getting some sleep. This time the excitement of seeing myself made up had made me careless. The simple act of not locking the door had ruined my life.

I was going to be outed as a disgusting tranny or some such other insult. I looked in the mirror. My eye makeup had run where I had been crying. For a few moments before mum came in I had thought I looked pretty. I was happy with my first attempt at makeup.

I heard the front door close, and the familiar creak of the third step as she climbed the stairs. Here it comes, I thought. I just wish I would have had time to change.

She opened the door. On her face was a look of puzzlement and concern.

"Why didn't you tell me? I'm your mother."

"Do you hate me mum?"

She sat on the bed next to me and wrapped her arms around me and hugged me close.

"I love you. You're my child. How could I ever hate you? Whatever you want to do I will support you, you must know that."

I sobbed uncontrollably. My greatest fear, my horrible secret was out and she didn't hate me. My head spun. What would this mean? Where would I go from here?