Kora Neen - Capitol - FIN

Times were hard.  Not because I actually had anything to worry about.  I think that was why I thought time were hard.  I didn’t have anything to worry about.  My mother controlled my life, down to the microsecond. 

However, it had always been this way.  I don’t remember a time when my life wasn’t laid out for me on a fake silver platter.  You see, my mother was a fashion designer, and a talented one at that.  She would use me when I was younger to model off her clothes that she made for kids.  At first, I enjoyed it, taking everything in as something fun.   It was a way that I could help my mom and of course, I wanted to make her happy.  She told me that she appreciated me because I was able to bring her visions to life.  So of course, I listened to her, and continued to do what I thought was what I was born to do.

However, as I started growing up, my mother decided that she wanted to experiment with the clothes she designed.  She told me that she thought I had the perfect body to wear anything, and so when she made something, even if it didn’t look like it was going to fit me she would make me wear it.  There were days where the clothes would hug my hips in the most unflattering way.  Sometimes, the clothes didn’t even cover most of my upper body.  She told me that if she wanted to live in her house, I needed to abide by this rule. 

One time, even after pleading with her, she cut my hair and died it jet black.  She told me that this was the edgy look that she needed me to have.  She had a vision and I was her canvas.  However, her canvas kept changing as I kept growing up.  She couldn’t stop that after all, but still, she still held onto the same ideals that would be applied to me if I was a kid.  She thought that I would like the same cutesy flowery designs.  She thought I would take well to light, pristine pastels that flowed with the wind.  She thought I would be fine with anything that she made because I had to be grateful.  It was something that I could never get used too.  Even to this day.

I started to rebel just a bit more as she kept forcing me to model off her clothes.  You see, I was discovered by a modeling agency that saw my work when I was a kid.  However, my mother didn’t want to relinquish me quite yet, still thinking that I wanted to help he model her clothes that I had no interest in.  Without her knowing, I took the gig in a heartbeat, making up something about spending a little extra time at school.  Of course, I was off doing work with the agency that told me that I had a young and youthful look.  Perfect for what they needed.  Their prints were everything that I wanted in my outfits.  Full of color, shiny, technicolor even.  They shined of blues and purples and pinks, and not the lighter versions of those colors.  They were dark, like my personality, or my outlook on life depending on who you asked.  Their clothes fit me perfectly, and if anything seemed a little too tight around my body, they let it out a bit so I could breath.   They didn’t hold me to the same standard that my mother did, and I think that was the real turning point in my relationship with my mother.

You are wondering where my father is?  I am not really sure either.  He comes and goes when he pleases, and as long as mom is making money, he doesn’t care.  Whenever I ask my mother about his whereabouts, she just shrugs and says wherever he wants to be.  I think that is why my mother held onto me as long as she could.  She didn’t want me to randomly disappear either.  However, my mother didn’t understand that I wouldn’t do that to her.  As much as I hated the fact that she didn’t see me as an adult, I still loved her.  I just wished she gave me more of a say in what I wanted her to design.  I didn’t know how to explain it to her without her thinking that I was unhappy or not supportive.

So I tried as much as I could to make sure that I wasn’t in the house.  If I was in the house, that meant that she could find me and force me to wear clothes that I didn’t want to wear.  Some days were hard, but I tried my best to get through them.  I thought about how I found a place where I sort of felt like I belonged.  Well, after a couple of conversations with the modeling agency, I was able to finally tell my mother that I didn’t need to work for her anymore.  She tried to tell me that I was making a mistake, but I didn’t listen to her.  It gave me a chance to do what I always wanted to do.  Be myself.

So she went and trashed me on the air at many of her events because she told me that was the only way she could make me realize that I wasn’t being myself.  And while I couldn’t stop her from doing that, I still resented her for a while.  However, she told me that she would be willing to compromise if I dropped the modeling agency I was working for.  I told her that I needed to think about it and she told me that she would give me till the end of the day.

So I put myself far away from everyone and thought about what I was going to do next.  I held onto a bracelet that my mother had given me a long time ago and played with it while I pondered my next move.  At first, it just seemed like a normal bracelet until I pushed a small button on the side of it that I never noticed before.  I flash of blue and pink light came out of it, and illuminated the room.  I didn’t know what to say, except that it was probably the prettiest thing that I had ever seen.  I kept this to myself however because I didn’t know how to explain this to my mother without sounding crazy.  I just took a long deep breath and made my way back out of the room I was in and back to my house so I could have a long talk with her.

And she took it well, and we started working together for a while.   She told me that I could make open suggestions and she would think about listening to them.  Of course, I had to take them with a grain of salt, because I knew that it would take time for her to change, however, I was hopeful, which I think was always the problem.  I hoped that everything would work out.  I knew I shouldn’t have.

All I wanted to do was break down the walls that my mother had resurrected over the years.  Obviously that wasn’t going to be an easy task.  Especially since I hadn’t quite told my mom that I didn’t like boys the way I should have.

Yeah, that’s a story I have too.  It was when I was on a photoshoot with the modeling agency I no longer work for anymore.  The woman that was photographing me was telling me about how the light struck me was something that she had never seen before.  It was almost like my skin started glowing different colors with each passing frame that she took.  I did remind her that they had me in a long black gown with blue’s, pink’s, and purples all in the fabric.  She however, looked at me and told me that was not what she was referring too. 

She pulled me aside and showed me the photos as she took them, and I did have admit that in each frame, the color was different, and I couldn’t quite explain that.  However, she looked at me with eyes that cared, which was something I thought I would never see.

I smiled at her, and she smiled at me.

Then we both leaned in for a kiss.  We ended up head-butting each other at first, but after a small laugh, she leaned in again and gave me my first kiss.

And I didn’t want to like it, but of course, I did.

So here we are, my fabulous lesbian life where I have to live in fear of a mother who looks at me like I am something she owns.  A girl who looks at me like I am something out of this world.  And so many questions that I feel like my head is going to spin right off my body.

Perfect.