Author's Note
It's the sequel.
And this is all about unconditional love and acceptance from parent to child. That is the most important theme I try to bring to my stories with those relationships. Love between them should always be unconditional, no matter what mistakes either makes. So this is my love letter to the testament of unconditional love by both parent and child, and the forgiveness of ones self for past mistakes.
Enjoy.
Somebody Loves You
Acceptance.
It is hard to gain and easy to lose. I know that very well. I took a village of ponies, stripped them of their cutie marks- the very essence of they were meant to be- just so I wouldn’t be alone again. I thought by doing that I would not lose them, that I would not have to accept that my oldest friend leaving me for Celestia’s magic school because I had them. I thought I was filling a hole left in my heart by Sunburst that those ponies could fill. They accepted me, both as their leader and their friend. I thought I had it all. And then, Princess Twilight and her friends came and stripped me of everything. And I tried to destroy them like they had destroyed me, just to show them what it felt like to be me. But instead, they offered me friendship. A real, trusting hoof was put in front of me for the first time, and I was afraid to take it, but I did.
Becoming Twilight’s protege did not erase the mistakes of my past. I know. I live with those scars, those invisible marks that carve up my soul every day. Every scar left on me was baggage I had to carry. Sometimes that baggage could be removed- by accepting a situation or forgiving myself or others. But sometimes it stayed there, like a thousand pound weight on my back I was forced to drag around with me everywhere I went.
I have made scores of mistakes in my life. Everypony has I suppose. It just depends on the severity of them. We all carry baggage of differing weights and sizes, and we carry them, often times alone. But sometimes, with friends or family, we can carry them together.
I did not want to face my family- my Dad actually, because he was the only one I had left. My mother apparently left my father when I was a year old, and went to Las Pegasus. My father hasn’t set hoof in any place a thousand miles from that place since. In fact, he rarely leaves home- Sires Hollow. I always thought he didn’t leave because it was some place he shared with me. I was, as he often told me growing up, his world. It doesn’t surprise me that he never left. It was the place where our shared memories were.
Sometimes there were good ones- Playing tea party with him or flying kites with him when I was a foal. But there were bad ones too. The time after Sunburst left was one of them. I see now, in retrospect, that he was trying to be closer to me, because he knew in his own way that I needed him, but I pushed him away. I didn’t want to need anypony or anything ever again. That pain transformed itself into different things for the both of us. For Dad, it made him overbearing, and too attached to me. For me, it bred a hatred of cutie marks. I, in my misconstrued way of thinking, decided no pony needed cutie marks ever again, and that I would find a way to erase them. I was so focused on that that I did not see the pain I was causing my Dad.
I did not want to see his pain. I did not want to acknowledge that what hurt me also hurt him. I wanted to be alone in my suffering so I could say that I had no one. That I was alone. That there was a reason why I was what I was then. I needed something to blame, but my father didn’t give me that. Every day, every single day, I knew that he loved me. I tried for so long to unravel myself from those tendrils of love he tried to wrap me in, to plunge myself headfirst into the darkness that was consuming me, but he never let me go. I’m grateful for that now.
It wasn’t until I went to Sires Hollow with Sunburst and faced my Dad that I understood what he was trying to do. It wasn’t until he explained himself to me after I yelled at him that I could finally see beyond my own frustration and put myself in his horseshoes. I thought about what it must have been like for him to see that darkness turn me turn into something he couldn’t even recognize. I thought that for the first time, now understanding what he’d been trying to accomplish, that he had done all of it to keep me out of that darkness and pull me back. He might not have done it the right way, but the fact that he tried it at all… That meant so much.
On my next visit to Sires Hollow, I was carrying some of my emotional baggage with me. In this place, where everything began, it was hard to put down. When I told my father what I had done before, I had glossed over much of the unpleasantness of it. That day, I was going to give him my full confessional and just pray he would understand.
We’d grown back together in the time since that last visit. I suppose it was true, that old saying that sometimes you have to open a wound to let it heal properly. Dad had been working hard not to treat me like a filly anymore- I could tell from his letters that he’d seriously tried to change that. It made me comfortable, that change. He took me seriously. I needed to know that.
I got off the train and headed for home, and he greeted me with a warm hug. He really made an effort to cut down on the more cutesy nicknames, instead just using the more acceptable ones like honey, sweetheart, and sweetie. He wasn’t completely off of it, because a few times “Punky-Wumpkin” or “Sugar Plumb” ended up in there, but he caught himself and apologized for it. He was trying, and that was what mattered.
I wasn’t sure how to start that conversation, other than saying, “I need to tell you something, Dad”. But once I did that much it started coming out, like a dam of words that had been barricaded for so long just burst out of me. I went on and on about my mistakes, my regrets, the nightmares that still plagued me, and my feelings. When I finished, I was spent, and breathing heavily.
Dad hadn’t said a word during that whole speech. He just listened, and looked at me. His eyes didn’t give anything away, and when I was done, he was still quiet. I had enough time to think I ruined my relationship with him too by revealing all of that, and almost began to cry when he pulled me into a fierce embrace.
“Starlight, when I look at you I don't see mistakes you might have made or reasons to be angry. I look at you and see my pride, my joy, my love, and my perfect daughter, despite any flaws you could have. You're perfect to me, and you always will be, no matter what you do. I’ll always love you.” Were the words he’d said to me.
I had cried. It wasn’t a feminine cry either. It was one of those gasping-for-air-and-unleashing-years-of-stored-up-emotions kind of cries. He’d just held me the whole time, and told me how proud he was of me.
“I’m so proud of you Starlight. You’re my baby girl, and I love you.”
Ordinarily I might have been upset with the term of endearment, but in that moment, it just fit. For maybe a second, or just a heartbeat, I was a filly again, and he was comforting me after a nightmare. His acceptance was a warm blanket around me, and for the first time, I experienced how he had wanted me to feel all those years.
“I love you… Daddy.”
“I love you too, Starlight. I always will.”
Suddenly, the baggage I’d been carrying seemed lighter. Dad had taken some of it off of my shoulders and brought it to his own. And I learned perhaps the most important friendship lesson I could have learned that day.
Somebody loves you, just the way you are.
