There's only one chapter, because that's all I need.
So to get this out of the way: This morning I had granola bars for breakfast. About twenty five of them, I think.
Yes, I know I've got more poundage then the average pony. I could blame a genetic condition, and I wouldn't actually be lying that much, but that's not the real reason for my sheer presence. Maybe I could say guys like a little extra grip--and I definitely wouldn't be lying then! Still, what I do with my lovelies is my own business, thankyouverymuch, and it's certainly not my only reason. Do I like good food? Yes. Do I enjoy getting stares wherever I go? Oh heck yes. Do I just not give a feather about ponies calling me names? Most of that lot aren't very creative, so it's not that big a deal.
More than anything, though, I'm big because I want to be. This is who I am, fillies and gentlecolts, from the moment I earned my cutie mark to this very day. I am Tumble Hooves, big brash and bold; I'm confident enough in my own identity that I don't need others telling me what to be.
That's not to say I don't follow fads sometimes. If I like something, I like it, and yeah that sometimes aligns with whatever Canterlot has decided is the hot new thing. Other times, though, I go for the obscure and unique, not because it's obscure or unique but because that particular thing appeals to me. I'm a very 'in the moment' kind of mare, I'll admit it, a little short-sighted when it comes to consequences, and yeah that's bitten me in the butt more than a few times. I own up to it, though: I admit my mistakes, and my faults, hay I even try to improve on them sometimes. I just don't dwell on them.
Dwelling on one's own traits, you see.... that's a bad thing. Or it can be, when done wrong. If you dwell on your positive traits, you might blind yourself to the negative; pride becomes arrogance, and arrogance becomes ignorance, and ignorance becomes stupidity. On the other hoof, dwell on your negative traits and you blind yourself to the positive; shame becomes sorrow, sorrow becomes grief, and grief becomes mania. Heck, we've got two case examples sitting on our throne right now--thank goodness Blinding Sun and Nightmare Moon learned their lesson, otherwise we'd be in a world of hurt.
On the flipside, though.... admitting that you've got a problem is the first step to fixing it. The second is actually doing something about it, even if it's just seeking out help. And it's perfectly healthy to acknowledge your positive aspects, too. It's all about balance, when it comes right down to it. You've got to love yourself... or if you can't do that, go find somebody who loves you. A friend, a sibling, a parent, a lover, all those will do.
Which brings me to my point. Why are you all here? I know why: You're curious. You want to know how a pony like me doesn't collapse in tears every time somepony compares me to an elephant. First of all, I've met a few elephants, and they're incredibly nice--if a little stodgy on occasion. But really, the reason I don't care about the teasing--like I said, I am who I want to be. And I want to be a model for everypony out there, the ones that are quote unquote different, the ones pushed aside because they don't match up with what society wants them to be. To them, I am the shining light of possibility: I am the pony strong enough to not just take these jabs at my flank, but bounce them back with the biggest pie-eating grin ever.
Do you know I own a good chunk of Canterlot? Like five percent, and in this city that's saying something. So I love it when somepony tries to taunt me; all I have to do is direct them toward one of the businesses I own. Is it petty that I enjoy the shock when they realize who they tried to bring down? Oh, probably. But oh, it's just so satisfying.
Of course, if I'm a role model I have to do my part to lift up the ponies I'm a role model to. That's why I have a psychology degree. Aha! That face, right there, that 'oh Celestia what the what?!' That's what I was talking about earlier. You thought I was uneducated because I'm so obviously just a hedonist, huh? Well, not going to lie: I am a hedonist. But that's not what my special talent is. No, my talent is being able to pull other ponies out of the duldrums, brush them off, and build them up. I can't tell you how many ponies I've seen that were on the edge of despair. I mean, I know the number, but doctor patient confidentiality, you know?
Yeah, I "work" as a therapist... but really, that's only one of the ways I help ponies out. There's also making connections, getting ponies to know the right ones--you know that new botique that was making the princess dress? Guess who introed the designer to the manager... YEP! Twas the not humble at all Tumble Hooves. That's what I do--I go to ponies that think they're failures, and I ensure that they'll start thinking of themselves as successes. That look on their face, the joy when something goes right for them, the realization that they can keep their new career or house or whatever... That's what I live for.
Well that, and the triple-fudge pecan cookie ice cream sandwiches that sell across the road. Because, good Celestia, WOOOOOW!
