Since I was 15, all my mother rang into my ears was that I'd be a beautiful wife that mothered beautiful children in a beautiful home with a just as beautiful and loving husband by my side. She prepared me for my motherhood and wifehood duties, she made sure that after I finished my homework the given evening that I learned how to prepare gourmet dishes and follow the recipes to the T. Since I was 15, my mother had me wearing clip ins, learning how to perfect the art of subtle but having a demanding and strong presence. She said I deserved the world and nothing less. Since I was 15, I've been learning how to maintain a proper posture while sitting, standing in high heels and how to put forward strong body languages. Since I was 15, I've been learning to speak different languages and I never stopped to wonder why the Ghanaian tongue Asante Twi and also French. My mother said that learning different languages and culture would make me a perfect wife for the perfect suitor. She did her best to raise me to be the perfect wife but deep down I just wanted to be normal, I didn't want to disappoint my mother so I kept bringing home A's and nothing less. I kept learning these cultural dishes and I kept my posture straight. Since I was 15, I've been depressed. I was currently sat in my bedroom in my boxers and sports bra knowing that if my mother ever came in and saw me like this there would be repercussions. I couldn't help it, I wasn't this girly person that my mother wanted. I was rough, I trained my voice to be deep and even though I had perfect posture I still attempted to dip as a guy would when I walked. I loved being a woman but I wasn't girly, I've tried explaining to my mother that this wasn't an identity crisis but that got me nowhere other than a psychologist's office with them trying to convince me that I'm not a tomboy.

"Zidania?" My mother called from the door. I hurriedly ran to my adjoined bathroom and shut the door behind me.

"Uhh, I'm in the bathroom about to take a shower mother." I said reopening the door just a tad bit.

"Okay, I'll leave the dress for the dinner tonight on the bed. Your friend Carter Jones is here. Thought I told you that I don't want you hanging out with her type.." She said.

"She's my only friend, mother and my best friend." I said.

She didn't say anything she just sighed. I heard the door close and I closed my bathroom door with a sigh as well. CJ and I have been best buds since I started this school. We weren't always rich and stush. My mom and I were poor, she didn't even know my father but even then she was still stuck up and hid her poverty well. She married Richard when I was 12, he was a very successful lawyer who was looking for a particular woman to settle down with and that woman so happened to be my mother. I wasn't complaining, I had three meals a day and snacks in between because I've always loved food. I get a big allowance and recently for my 18th birthday he bought me a matte black Jeep Wrangler with dark green interior. I was surprised he actually got me what I wanted and not what my mother suggested which was a car that she said, "would bring out the powerful woman in you." I never understood what she meant but I surely didn't want a white Mercedes C-class. I wasn't looking for attention and I surely didn't want to get robbed and killed just because. I wasn't the type to flaunt the money that I now had around even though Richard kept us updated with the latest technology. He came home one day with Apple bags, both had the latest MacBook Air and IPhone XS. Why? I don't know but would I ever ask? No... Over the years I came to the conclusion that I did like the hype, it was the only thing keeping me sane with my mother's constant "home training" sessions.

I took a shower and took fresh pairs of boxers from under the sink where I hid them and drew back on the same sports bra that I had on before. I walked out into my perfectly air conditioned room seeing Carter Jones lying on my bed playing on her phone. I looked down at her feet and she had on the latest Nautica loafers, which I specifically asked her to not get a pair without me. Her light pink shorts stopped mid thigh and her white long sleeve button down was folded at the elbow. I knew she had on her gold chain and matching bracelet that she wore everyday.

"CJ?" I said getting her attention.

"Before your observant tush gets mad, I bought you a pair. Its beside my bag." She didn't looking up from her phone.

I walked over to her bag and moved it, the Nautica box sat in all its glory staring back at me.

"You are very welcome and I love you too," She said finally getting up and walking over to me.

She wrapped her arms around me from behind and rested her face on my back.

"I really love seeing you in your boxers and sports bra, I wish your mom allowed you to be yourself instead of forcing these feminine things on you." She said sniffing my hair.

"Really?" I acted coy, even though we've been over this a million and one times.

"Yes, baby girl. You think I love you because you portray yourself as some high class preppy bitch? Nah, I love that hidden masculine part of you that wants to dominate, I love the slight dip in your walk whenever you're not around your mom. I love the tomboy that is Zidania Imanuelle McGlashan also known as Zim and self titled 'Invader Zim'" She smiled and looked at our reflection in the mirror that was directly ahead.

"I love you too, Carter Jones," I turned around to kiss her.

"Now, I came to drop off these shoes but I wouldn't mind copulating before I go," she said squeezing my ass.

"Bro, you can use normal words like fuck and ass you know?"

"Of course, I know," she laughed out.

I laughed with her then picked her up, she wrapped her legs around my waist and I took her over to my king size bed adorned in black satin sheets and threw her down. She was shorter than me, her hair was flat ironed and long while mine was actually processed and I currently had in clip ins to make it look longer and fuller which I had caught up in a high bun right now. Her ends were even so I assumed she went to the salon today to get a trim and also because her almost non existent fade was looking sharp. I untucked her shirt from her shorts and started unbuttoning it while I continued to gaze at her admiring her features. She was light skinned, just like I preferred them. There was nothing wrong with dark skin girls because they held their weight but it was just something about the light creamy skin tone that was just begging for my hickeys and bruises brought on from rough sex. The bruise around her neck was almost healed, the dark blue spot was now fading into a darker shade. Her eyes were a golden honey bronze with small flecks of green, I got lost in them every time she looked at me. I drew her shirt from off of her and forcefully pulled the sports bra over her head, I was sucking on her nipples while I had my finger in her mouth so she could keep quiet. I didn't have enough time to strap her down right now so I planned on giving her head and getting my lips wet. As I was moving down her stomach leaving wet kisses I heard my mom's heels coming down the long and hollow hallway. Shit.. I grabbed her shirt and her sports bra and dragged her off the bed pushing her into the bathroom. I appreciated the fact that my mom wore heels around the house, I appreciated it for moments like these.

"Zidania, is the dress a perfect fit?" She asked, slowly sticking her head in looking around.

"Yes mother." I gave an innocent smile.

I had managed to step into the dress before she came, I also took my sports bra off and threw it somewhere on the floor.

"You look stunning. Now, please put yourself together, we'll be leaving in an hour to meet your father at the restaurant." She said smiling.

I nodded and watched as she turned away and closed the door behind her. I drew on a shirt and went to the bathroom, CJ was sitting on top of the toilet looking sad. I went over to stoop in front of her.

"I'm sorry babe, you know how it is." I hugged her.

"And I really wish it weren't so," she said in a low tone.

I watched her get dressed and left without giving me a hug. I couldn't lose her, she was the only one who completely understood me. Even though I changed into more masculine clothes at school, I couldn't trust anyone to understand how hectic my life and situation was right now. I needed her. I sighed and went to sit at my vanity turning on the lights that framed the mirror. My caramel skin complexion was a couple shades darker than Carter's. I decided to do my hair first, I turned on the curling wand allowing it to heat up. I pulled my hair from the bun that I had it in and started brushing it out, the middle part framed my slender face perfectly.

'You should wear a middle part, it looks more fitting for a tomboy'

I remember Carter saying to me the day I came out of the bathroom after changing into my masculine clothes with a side part. That was the first time she actually spoke to me, she had a group of friends and they were the most popular in the school because of their families and wealth status.

I sectioned off my hair and began curling. I made sure to make a side part and curled away from my face as my mother taught me. I pinned up all my curls so that they could set and started on my makeup. I highlighted my nose and cheekbones, I also dusted some on my collarbones for effect I guess. I went to my top draw and took out my broad scotch tape, I placed the start of the length of tape right under my boob and drew it to my back. I repeated this until my breasts were round and perky on both sides. I changed from my boxers and into Nike seamless tights that hugged my thighs and ass perfectly.

Nothing should be jiggling.

My mother's voice rang through my head. I stepped into the dress once more and brought it up over my shoulders. I zipped it up at the back feeling all of my body conform to the tight dress. I went back to the mirror to pull down my curls and fix my hair, I sprayed it with oil sheen and left it. I went over to my walk in closet where my bracelets were kept. I took out the 24K bracelet and necklace set that I got from Richard's brother for my 18th birthday. He knew about my 'identity crises' and he made it known that he was supporting me with the remark he made while handing me my gift.

"P.S it's neutral," he had said while winking at me.

And it was, because it went perfect with my rich boy flex as the kids at school would call it. I took out my black pair of heels that strapped at the ankle, I rubbed some lotion on my feet and legs then slid them on buckling them up. I walked back out to the full length mirror in my room and stared at myself.

Maybe I should just stop dressing masculine.

Maybe I should just accept this and move on.

Maybe I should live the life my mother prepared me for.

Since I was 15, I've been having this internal battle with myself. Since I was 15, my mother threw my comic books away and gave me cook books. She processed my hair and even though I cried, all she said to me was, it will add to your beauty.

Since I was 15, this is who I've been groomed to be. Maybe it's time I stopped fighting it.

Maybe it's time I accepted the word beautiful, since it's the only adjective my mother can use to describe me.