Fathers-in-Law That Turned Their Children’s Lives into Complete Nightmares

He Hates Me for Wearing Makeup

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So this happened a couple of years ago, when I was first getting together with my girlfriend. I’m a young male that happens to like makeup. Actually any accessories, but that’s beside the point.

My girlfriend, who also adores makeup and who’s absolutely thrilled to be able to dress me up nicely, was going to a pre-planned party with some of her old high school friends that night, and since we lived apart at that point, I stayed in her room for the night.

So I make plans with one of my mates from the area and forget to wash off the nail polish that my girlfriend had put on me the night before, before I exit the house.

We hang out for a while, but his girlfriend comes and picks him up after her shift at this restaurant she works at, so we part ways relatively early in the evening.

I then go home to my girlfriend’s house and spot her parents drinking in the living room. I announce to them that I’m home and that I’ll be in my girlfriend’s room if they need anything.

But her parents are intoxicated at this point and in the mood to mingle, so they wave me over and offer me a glass of something to drink. Me being “the new boyfriend,” I see this as a good opportunity to hang out with them in a less formal setting. I accept their invitation and sit down at the table with them.

OH MAN, have I lived to regret that decision. My father-in-law, immediately spotting my nail polish, goes on a rant about how ugly makeup is for men and starts passive-aggressively threatening me, saying stuff like,

“If I saw you at a bar and didn’t know who you were, I can’t promise you that I wouldn’t beat the heck out of you.”

Yeah, that’s a normal thing to say. So me being rather non-confrontational in this sort of situation, I try to leave the conversation as courteously as I can, saying that I’m sorry he feels this way and that I won’t be making any trouble for him and the family.

However, as I try to leave the room, my mother-in-law, completely absent from the conversation until now, runs over to stop me, saying that I deserve an apology and that I should rejoin the table.

This would turn out to be a futile exercise and another excuse for my future father-in-law to escalate the situation even further. Immediately as I sit down again, he asks me if I’m hiding something from them, suggesting that I’m a “closeted (insert offensive slur here)” and that my girlfriend is covering up for me.

His wife is taking a different route, trying to psychoanalyze me and asking if I was ever mistreated by my peers in elementary school, since I look the way I do. At this point, the “conversation” is rounding its second hour, and I am not being allowed to leave the room. Well, I start making mistakes. I take the bait.

I tell them that it’s none of their business whether or not people mistreated me in elementary school, and I ask her father why my orientation is so important to him. This was the match that lit the kerosene-soaked bonfire.

My future father-in-law stands up, walks over to where I am sitting, calls me a slur once again, and shoves me out of my chair.

I, believing I’m about to be beaten up, maneuver myself out of the room as quickly as I can, run down to my girlfriend’s bedroom, lock the door, and dial up my girlfriend who unfortunately doesn’t pick up her phone.

So, I don’t know anyone in the area, outside of the person I met up with that evening, and I don’t know what to do. I call my parents, but it’s late at night at this point and nobody’s awake.

Not that I had any time to make plans for a departure, as my mother-in-law suddenly comes down after a few minutes and starts crying on my girlfriend’s bed, demanding that I comfort HER.

She cries that she has been terribly embarrassed and inconvenienced by the situation upstairs. To this day, I don’t know why I even let her into the room. After half an hour, she finally leaves the bedroom, and I’m left to my lonesome in a house with two intoxicated sociopaths.

I’m not proud of it, but having no other viable options, I just go to bed, hoping my girlfriend will be home early the next day. Thankfully, she was. I tell her everything and she proceeds to pack bags for us to go to her grandparents’ house, who to this day are none the wiser about the state of affairs at her parents’ house.

So, yeah. That’s pretty much how my introduction to my girlfriend’s family got started. Since then, we’ve gone very little contact with them. And, thankfully, our relationship has never been better. Story credit: Reddit / o_the_other_dude

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