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“Well I found this for a shirt, what do you think?” Patton’s mother held up an obviously feminine black button up shirt, and he couldn’t help but cringe at it before turning to the neatly packaged men’s sorts hanging on the wall.
“I saw these... I just don’t know what size I would get-“ He was cut off by his mother.
“Well to get one of those you would need to try on who knows how many. Come on let’s just try this one on.” Patton turned back to his mother, the infinite refusals boiling in his mind, yet every single one went unsaid. He just nodded, taking the blouse and going to a changing room.
Twenty-four hours ago, Patton had no idea he would be spending his Friday fighting back tears in a changing room. The way the fabric had felt, the way it sat on him as he looked in the mirror, even while unbuttoned as the white of his binder gleamed against the black, it felt wrong. It felt disgusting, and he tore it off and put it back on the hanger. It was too small anyway.
“Do you want me to get you another size?” His mother had asked when he told her it didn’t fit. Patton stuttered, eyes glancing towards the men’s shirts again. “Come on, Patricia. Humour me and try on a bigger size?” Patton sighed, feeling the ball of anxiety in his gut growing as his mother handed him a bigger shirt and ushered him back into the changing room.
Patton broke as he buttoned up the shirt, tears flowing down his cheeks. He thought his mother was getting better at accepting him, she had said his real name a couple times last week, albeit in reference to his future in a ‘are you really going to do this’ sort of way that screamed resentment. It was progress, but now Patton felt like he was back at square one, having no clue of how far he could push through the boundary into being male in her eyes.
He opened the door, eyes full of tears as he utterly despised the way he looked in the shirt. It fit, but the buttons weren’t as high as on a men’s shirt, showing off a part of his binder.
“Ah, well you can just wear a t-shirt or a tank top under it or something.” And look more like a girl, Patton mentally remarked. “I don’t know why you’re crying, we just need something that won’t make you look like an idiot in an interview.”
Patton snapped.
“This will make me feel like an idiot,” Patton mumbled, losing the restraint in his voice. He was sick and tired of forcing it all down, hiding it away just to have a decent relationship with his parents.
“I’m sorry? This actually fits you, Patricia, unlike a boy’s shirt.”
“But I feel ridiculous wearing girls clothes. You know this, mom.”
“Look, we’re not dealing with your fancy boy stuff now, Patricia.” She began to walk off, but Patton stood his ground, new hot tears streaming down his face.
“‘Fancy boy stuff’? This is my life!” His mother paused, turning to look at him. She was speechless, obviously not expecting this. Patton sucked in a breath before continuing, glad that other people were around. “You think you’re struggling, I have to live this shit reality! In my heart and my mind I know I am a guy and you keep trying to put me in this frame that doesn’t fit! I get that you’re confused! But you blow up so easily that I feel I can’t talk to you!” Patton stripped off the blouse before putting on the blue shirt he came into the store wearing. “I am a boy, and I just want you to see that! It’s like if you got forced into men’s clothing, or if you made what you deem a ‘normal boy’ wear a dress when he didn’t want to!” People were watching, wary eyes taking in the scene before them, and Patton’s mother was well and truly shocked.
“You... are a girl, Patricia-“
“My name is Patton! Say it for once, and maybe in a not so condescending tone! Accept that I’m not your daughter or you will lose the son you could’ve had!” And with that, Patton stormed out, vision blurry from the non-stop tears.
Once in the cool air of the car park, Patton tapped on Virgil’s contact, keeping his steady pace as he walked.
“Pat?” Virgil picked up on the second ring. Like always he was glued to his phone.
“I might need to take you up on that spare room offer,” Patton’s voice was cracking as he spoke, and he realised how sad he sounded.
“Shit are you okay? I’ll come to pick you up, where are you?” As Patton relayed his location to Virgil, Patton couldn’t help but feel somewhat better. After years of bottling up all the anger and resentment towards the way his parents treated him, he had finally released it. He had finally allowed himself to be not okay in front of them. And as Virgil pulled up next to Patton in his small, beaten up purple Peugeot, he wondered what would have happened if he had kept quiet. He knew he made the right decision though when he was pulled into a hug and practically squeezed to death by his best friend.