“Stop looking for attention,” Bright Light demanded. “You know that you’re just trying to get attention, so just stop it.”
He glared angrily into the mirror for a second, staring at his reflection, before his expression morphed into a grimace. He tried not to cringe at himself, but he couldn’t stop his body from tensing up as he took in the pony in the mirror. He couldn’t help but hate what he saw.
He looked too... he didn't know. He didn't want to say masculine, but that was the best way to describe it. He just... looked too much like a stallion, and it made him hate his appearance. He also hated that he hated his appearance, cause it meant that he felt like he should look more like a mare, which would've been a completely ridiculous thought for him to have. Still, though, he found himself wishing he could change what he saw while he stared at himself.
“Stop looking for attention,” he said again, more forcefully than before. “You’re a stallion, so just stop it. Stop acting like this. You’re too old to act like this. Stallions are supposed to look like this.”
As he spoke, a tiny inkling of anxiousness started to take hold of him, which he knew would turn into sadness and tears if it didn’t stop. The thought would go from him thinking he was looking for attention to him being annoying and bothering everypony, before turning into the feeling that everypony hated him. He knew his thoughts were going to take that route. They always did, yet he was powerless to stop them. What was he supposed to do? He knew he was looking for attention. He wasn’t ever going to be a mare, so he might as well have just stopped thinking about it. It wasn’t going to happen.
Even if by chance he were to become a mare, he knew it would just be because he was looking for attention. He never wanted to be a mare before, nor could he say he was uncomfortable with being a stallion. Sure, there were aspects of himself that he didn’t like and wished he could change, but it wasn’t because he was a stallion. It just so happened to be those particular features about himself. Everypony had things they didn’t like about themselves, and they didn’t all wish to be somepony else. Sure, he might have liked the idea of being called a mare, and just thinking about it might have made him feel happy, but that was just it. An idea. A thought. He didn’t know how that would translate to real-life because he’d never actually been called a mare, and he wouldn’t be called a mare because he wasn’t a mare. He didn’t know what brought the thought to his head over the last few months that he wanted to be one, and didn’t understand why he was unable to force it away, but he knew he needed to because they weren’t true. He didn’t want to be a mare, plain and simple.
Fed up with looking himself over, he stomped out of the bathroom and flopped down onto his bed. He didn’t know what he wanted to do, but he didn’t just want to lay there thinking about himself. He’d done that too many times and made himself cry too many times because of it, and wasn’t interested in heading down that road today. He thought for a moment about what he could do to distract himself when an idea suddenly popped into his head. He could talk to Misty Rose! She would knock some sense into him and tell him how to banish this thinking from his head. She was like him in that she felt she was a mare as well, except for the fact that she wasn’t looking for attention when she said she felt that way. She actually was a mare, and wasn’t fetishizing being a mare like he likely was.
“Not likely,” he thought as he made his way to his desk and sat down. “Am. The way I am. There’s no way I’m not a stallion, so stop thinking that way. But what to write…”
He wanted to send a letter that wouldn’t be perceived as suspicious, not that there was anything to be suspicious of, of course, seeing as he was a stallion. But still, he didn’t want her to get any ideas about what he might be feeling. Of course, there was no easy way to avoid that due to the subject being discussed. After some thinking, he decided the best way would make it seem like a joke, as though it was a hypothetical scenario that didn’t really matter. Not that it did, of course, because…
“Why am I doing this?” he asked aloud as he put his head in his hooves. “This is just an effort for you to get attention. Why can’t you just stop acting like this?”
Still though, despite asking himself this, he wrote out his letter:
Misty Rose,
A random thought popped into my head. What if, hypothetically, somepony, say, myself for instance, in an effort to gain the attention of others, said they’ve had thoughts of feeling as though they’d be better suited to being a mare? How would you go about reprimanding them and helping them to rid these thoughts from their head, since, once again, it would just be an effort to seek attention?
-Bright Light
With the short message finished, he cast the spell to send it off, grimacing as he did so.
“Why are you doing this?” he thought. “You’re not a mare, you’re just looking for attention, so just be a stallion and get over it yourself. You’re doing this specifically for attention.”
Just a few moments later, Misty Rose sent her answer:
Bright Light,
I wouldn’t. I would tell you, since you’ve used yourself in this hypothetical scenario, that you’re not seeking attention, that you, ma’am, are a very nice mare, and that I understand exactly how you feel. I must ask though, in this scenario, if you’ve told anypony else about what you’ve been thinking.
-Misty Rose
A wave of emotion overtook him completely by surprise. It was one of happiness, one that made him smile and blush as he read the words over and over. You, ma’am, are a very nice mare. They were very nice words to read, and made him incredibly happy to read, especially because it was applied to him. It was a physical feeling of happiness, almost euphoria, at the thought that she’d be so accepting of him.
And then, a few seconds later, he cringed. He felt nice only because he was getting the attention he was looking for. Not because he was a mare. He wasn’t a mare. He didn’t know why he started the conversation with her in the first place. He was just giving himself what he wanted. Still though, he couldn’t just end it now. That would look suspicious, and
so decided to send his response.
Misty Rose,
No, in this scenario, I wouldn’t have told anypony else how I felt because I would know that I was just looking for attention if I did so.
A few seconds later, he got another response from her:
Bright Light,
If you haven’t told anypony else how you’ve felt, then how could you possibly be looking for attention? Furthermore, what stallion who wanted attention would ever feel the need to claim to be a mare when there are much easier ways to receive it?
Reading through the message made him anxious. Everything she said made sense. What stallion would do this for attention? It did raise another question however, one that he hoped would make her change her mind on being so accepting of him, one he hoped would make her tell him that he was being ridiculous feeling the way he felt.
What if, he wrote, in this scenario, I’ve only thought and felt this way in the past few months, and not at all before? What if I were to say that I’m not entirely uncomfortable with being a stallion? Would you then say I'm being ridiculous for trying to paint myself in such a light and saying I felt that way?
Her response to him came in almost as soon as he sent his message over to her:
I would still say that you’re a very nice mare, and that it’s okay to feel the way you’re feeling. Just because you’re not uncomfortable with being a stallion or haven’t felt like a mare before doesn’t invalidate the way you feel now.
He tried to stop the feeling of happiness from washing over him again, but really couldn’t help it. Reading her words made him feel incredibly nice about himself. It felt nice to know that somepony supported him, nice to know that somepony would be there for him in the off chance that he actually did feel the way he did and he wasn’t just looking for attention.
“I’m not a mare,” he told himself as he read her words over again, trying to push the happiness he felt away. “I’m not. I know that. There’s no reason to be happy about what she wrote. I just…”
He was a stallion, wasn’t he? Just because he felt like a mare didn’t make him one. Not that he felt that way about other ponies. Other ponies weren’t being attention seekers when they said they felt the same way, whereas he was. But still, even if he was only looking for attention, it’d be very nice if he was a mare, and might have found himself wishing he were one…
“No, stop it,” he told himself. “Get that thought out of your head this instant. You’re just being an idiot. Stop acting like this.”
He decided that right then would be a good time to end his conversation with Misty Rose, seeing as she only validated the way he felt, and sent his last message to her.
I understand. I appreciate your insight on this scenario and do wish you an excellent rest of your evening. Although I do ask that this conversation be kept private (not that what we spoke of has any relevance towards myself, as it is just a hypothetical scenario). In any case, I look forward to seeing you and speaking with you again in the future
-Bright Light
A moment later, Misty Rose sent her last response:
I can assure you that our conversation will remain between us. As well, I’d like you to know that if you ever did truly feel the way the pony we discussed felt, you’d have my full support and would be able to speak to me about it anytime in confidence.
Always your friend,
-Misty Rose
P.S. I think you’d make a very nice mare c:
Reading what she wrote made him feel both euphoric and awful at the same time. Euphoric because he knew that she knew what he was feeling and accepted him, and awful for the exact same reason. He wasn’t a mare, and didn’t want to feel the way he did. He wanted her to tell him that he was being an idiot for feeling the way he did, not validate him. Still though, it felt incredibly nice to know that she knew how he felt and validated him, yet made him feel horrible that he’d only ever be able to want to be a mare. He could feel his eyes filling with tears because of it...
“Get ahold of yourself!” he demanded. “Are you really about to cry at the thought that you’re not a mare? What is wrong with you? Act like the stallion you’re supposed to be!”
He couldn’t help himself though as the tears started to run down his face. He just wished so badly he didn’t feel like this. He never felt like this before, so why now?
Bright Light put his head on his desk as he cried. Why was he acting like this? Why couldn’t he just stop thinking about it? It shouldn’t have mattered at all to him, and yet, for some reason it did. He shouldn’t have felt this way, but he did, and he hated himself for it.
“Why do I have to feel like this?” he thought. “Why is this happening to me? Why is this happening?”