Spike looked at the crystal lying on the table in front of him. He picked it up and inspected it closer, turned it left and right, looked at it from different angles, but he simply couldn’t find anything appetizing about it this morning. He moved the gem up to his mouth and licked it, hoping that a taste of it would wake his appetite, but he might as well have tried it with sandpaper.
He put the gem down and sighed.
Twilight looked up from her own breakfast. “Spike?”
“Yeah?” he asked, not really paying much attention.
“Is something wrong with the alexandrite?”
“No, I’m just… not hungry.”
Concern appeared on Twilight’s face. She leaned forward. “Do you feel ill? Should we go to the doc?”
Spike shifted around on his chair, trying to avoid looking at Twilight. “No, it’s nothing.” He shrank in on himself a little bit.
“You know that you can always talk to me when there’s a problem, right?”
“I know,” Spike said, shrinking even more.
Twilight waited a few seconds before asking, “Is there something you want to talk about?”
“It’s nothing, really,” Spike said, looking at his claws.
“But something must be bothering you,” Twilight said.
Spike slammed his claws on the table and pushed himself up. “No! It’s nothing!”
Twilight recoiled, her eyes widened.
Spike grabbed the gem and took a big bite, but the gem tasted like cardboard. While still chewing, he said, “See? I’m eating.”
Spike could see Twilight’s surprise over his outburst. He knew that she knew that he was hiding something, and was steeling himself for more probing questions, or for a shouting match.
But instead, Twilight just took a deep breath and turned back to her breakfast. “Alright, fine. I won’t force you to talk to me. But remember that I’m only asking because I’m concerned.”
“I will, thanks,” Spike said.
A good minute of silence passed before Spike asked, “Twilight?”
“Yes, Spike?”
“Is it normal to sometimes… kinda, hate, that you weren’t hatched as a girl?”
“Uh, what do you mean?”
“I… I’m honestly not sure. But sometimes, I just don’t like being a boy. I don’t hate it, but I just look at a mirror and it just doesn’t feel right, you know?”
“I can’t say that I do,” Twilight admitted, “but I think I get what you mean.”
Happiness and relief filled Spike, seeing that Twilight wasn’t freaking out.
But then she continued, “You never really conformed to the stereotypical ideals of what a stallion should be like.”
Spike gave off a confused and half hearted, “What?”
“And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. I know some ponies have prejudices against gender nonconforming ponies, but they’re just close minded—”
“Twilight.”
“—and you really shouldn’t pay any attention to them. And nopony here in Ponyville will be mean about it. Just think about Big Mac.”
Spike’s frustration grew. “Twilight.”
“And Mom and Dad definitely won’t, either. Shining also dabbled a bit into this kind of thing, and they were always supportive of him as well, and—”
“Twilight!”
She went silent and looked at him.
“I know that,” he said sternly. “One of my most prized possessions is an apron with a heart and frills on it. And I really couldn’t care less about what ponies think a boy dragon should be like. If that had been the problem, I would have just asked Big Mac to let me come along to his next drag artist meeting.”
“I’m sorry, but you really don’t have to yell at me,” Twilight said defensively. “I only wanted to help.”
“I know, but it was the only way to make you listen to me. And I don’t want it to go down the same way it did the last time.”
Now Twilight was confused. “Last time?”
“During the great dragon migration? When you all made fun of me for not being like a normal dragon?”
“Only Rainbow Dash made fun of you.”
“And you happily let it happen. Or you called me cute and adorable even when I clearly hated that. Why do you think I only talk about it now?”
“I’m sorry, Spike. I didn’t know that it troubled you so much.” She blinked a few times. “Wait, how long did you feel like that?”
“A few months.”
“I’m really sorry, Spike. I don’t know what I could do to help you with that. This really isn’t my area of expertise. I never really thought about my gender. I’m assigned female at birth, and I’m okay with that, but I don’t really care about it either way.”
Spike sighed. “It’s okay, just knowing that you’re still accepting me is already great.”
Then he asked himself, Who do I know who does care?
Spike stood in the middle of Rarity’s workshop like he had many times before when he modeled for Rarity. But he was still excited about it every time, and even more than usually on this day.
“My, I must say, this came really unexpected,” Rarity said while grabbing her pincushion and other tools. “I never thought that my little Spikey-Wikey is actually a dragoness!”
“I’m still not sure if that’s—”
“I’m sure that I can make a fine lady out of you in no time!” Rarity walked over to a shelf full of fabrics.
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m not sure if I actually want that.”
Rarity was intently staring at two batches of fabric, trying to decide which one to use. “Sorry, did you say something?”
Spike sighed. “Nothing.”
Rarity returned to Spike and started draping fabrics around him. “You already have a good starting point, of course. You know how to properly brew tea, and your baking is not something to be ashamed of, either.”
“Thanks.”
Spike was silent for a while after that, not wanting to interrupt Rarity while she was concentrating.
She was completely in the zone, grabbing different fabrics, mumbling about cuts, stitches, and colours.
As she swirled around him, levitating mannequins in circles and piece by piece sewing the dress around Spike, he got the impression that she was singing a song in her head. He only grew more certain of it when the lights in the studio started to turn on and off and changed colour and focus.
After the silent musical number, Rarity levitated a mirror in front of Spike. “What do you think so far?”
Spike looked at himself. He was wearing a simple, night blue dress that started on his shoulders and ended just over his knees. The sleeves only made it halfway down his arms and left a lot of room around his neck.
He started to grin. Seeing himself in the dress didn’t feel perfect, but definitely extremely good, and he could have looked at himself in the mirror for ages. “I really like it.”
“Oh, I’m delighted to hear that, Spikey-Wikey.” She lit her horn and levitated fabrics, lace, buttons, needles, threads, whatever else she could possibly need to herself. She started slowly walking circles around Spike. “It’s good to know that I’m going in the right direction. You’re presenting me with a rather unique challenge, to be honest.”
“Because I’m a dragon?”
“No. I mean, that’s part of it, yes. But it’s mostly because I never thought that you could be a filly.” She held a piece of lace to Spike’s arm. “I typically have an instinct for what looks good on mares or fillies, but it seems my muse is on vacation right now.”
Spike’s face dropped.
Rarity noticed his reaction and said, “Oh, I’m sure it’s just because it’s my first time making a dress for a dragon.”
“It’s ok,” Spike said resigned. He looked at the mirror again and at least some of the happiness returned.
Rarity looked at different parts of the dress before saying, “Can you take it off? I want to give it the final touches.”
“Oh… sure.” Spike gave it to Rarity and she went to work.
A few minutes later, Rarity gave the dress back to Spike. “So, it’s completed. What do you think?”
Spike looked in the mirror again. The sleeves now also covered his forearms with black lace, and Rarity had added a high collar that tightly covered his throat made from the same material, making it look like Spike was wearing a lace top underneath the dress. It also had frills where the cloth was connected to the lace. The lower half of the dress was now pleated.
Spike wasn’t sure if he really liked the style Rarity had chosen, but he had to admit that it was a very nice dress. “It’s great, but ah—ah—”
He sneezed into his elbow, engulfing himself in green fire.
And reducing the dress to ashes.
Rarity froze up and stared at the pile.
It was silent for a few moments before Spike said, “Uh, sorry…”
Rarity sighed, “It’s ok. I shouldn’t have used fabrics that burn easily.” She shook her head to get rid of her despair and said, “Don’t worry, Spikey-Wikey, I will find a material that will withstand your fire! And I will leave for Canterlot at once!”
She ran around the room, grabbing her saddlebag, purse, hat, and a bunch of other things that flew by too quickly for Spike to recognise. She gave him a hug and ran out of the front door.
Pinkie took a cake out of the oven. “So, what did you want to talk about?”
“Uh, how should I say this,” Spike scratched the back of his head. “I’m not sure who I really am. I know what ponies think I should be, because of what I’m hatched as, but I’m not sure if I want to be that.”
“Oh, that’s a real pickle! Hm…” she walked over to a different cake. “What color do you think this cake is, on the inside?”
Spike looked at it. “It looks like sand cake, so, yellow.”
Pinkie took a knife and cut the cake in half, revealing the inside to be made of layers in all colours of the rainbow. “Sometimes, how a cake looks on the outside isn’t what they are on the inside. Some are savoury, others sweet. Some are made from one batter, others have layers or complicated mixtures, but they’re all delicious!”
Spike grinned. Heh, should have expected a cake metaphor.
“Do you get what I mean?” Pinkie asked.
“Yeah, I’m like that cake, right?”
“Yepyepyepyep!” Pinkie said, bouncing around Spike.
“Thanks, but… but I want to know what kind of cake I am.”
“Well, the only way to find what your favourite cake is is trying a whole bunch of them! Maybe you’ll find that more than one cake is your favourite, maybe you’ll go for years thinking that carrot cake is your favourite, but then discover that you like strawberry even more! Go out and explore, but tell me what you find your favourite. I’ll throw a party so everypony knows who you really are!”
“Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”
It had taken Spike a while to find Applejack between the trees of Sweet Apple Acres, and Big Mac’s directions hadn’t been too useful, either. But when he eventually found her by sheer luck, Rainbow Dash was with Applejack, so at least he didn’t have to find her later as well.
After some smalltalk, Spike asked what he actually wanted to know about.
“What does it mean for us to be a mare?” Rainbow asked.
“Yeah, I… I’m not sure if I’m really happy with being a boy,” Spike admitted, “and I want to know what being a mare would be like, or what that would mean. I already went to Rarity, but I wanted to ask you because you two are… well...”
“Not girly?” Applejack asked.
Spike nodded.
“Well, Ah know that a lot of ponies think that it means being into fancy stuff,” Applejack said, “but that’s nonsense.”
“Yeah,” Rainbow agreed, “There’s nothing wrong with being a tomboy.”
“Just look at us,” Applejack said while bucking a tree, “we’re really happy just the way we are.”
“And I don’t see why you being a tomboy would be a problem, either,” Rainbow added.
“But I don’t kno—”
“No doubt in my mind,” Applejack said. “And Ah’m sure with some help from the strongest mare in ponyville, you’ll find your inner tomboy in no time!”
“Yeah,” Rainbow said, puffing her chest, “just follow my lead, and it will go faster than you could imagine!”
Applejack cleared her throat. “Now, Ah know that you would do a good job, but…”
Spike sighed. He knew that this would take a while. He went over to a bucket full of apples, grabbed one, and sat down as Applejack and Rainbow Dash went into full gear.
Spike was just about to fall asleep when he heard a familiar, soft voice say, “Oh my, why are they fighting this time?”
Spike rubbed his eyes and yawned. “I asked them for advice because I might be a girl, and they almost instantly went on about helping me become a tomboy. And then, well…”
“One of them talked about the strongest mare in Ponyville helping you?”
“Yep.”
Fluttershy sighed and turned to Spike. “Do you even want them to help you that way?”
Spike shook his head. “No. And I tried telling them that, but nopony is listening to me… as usual.”
Fluttershy looked at the fighting couple, and then back at Spike. “Would you want to come to my cottage for a lovely cup of tea to talk about it?”
Spike looked at Applejack and Rainbow Dash, who were currently in a hoof wrestling deadlock. “And what about them?”
“Oh, just ignore them. I’m sure they’ll stop eventually.”
Spike sat on Fluttershy’s couch when Fluttershy brought in a tray with a tea set. She placed it on the living room table, put one cup in front of Spike, one in front of her, and then poured tea for both of them.
Fluttershy took her cup of tea and leaned back in her seat. “So, why don’t you tell me how you started to question your gender?”
Spike took a deep breath. “It started a few months ago, I think. I met Kevin at the wedding of Matilda and Cranky, we kinda talked about how this kind of thing worked for Changelings, and how if they felt like they’re the wrong gender, they just changed it. Chrysalis apparently cared so little about the individual Changelings, she never even realized them doing that. But I think it just, you know, made me realize that I wasn’t, happy, as a boy. Looking back, I think that I felt like that for way longer. But I just didn’t really know about that sort of thing.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, me neither. Anyway, after that… I don’t really know.”
“How you feel?”
“Yeah, it’s just so confusing. I barely know what being a mare even means.”
“And the others really weren’t any help?”
“No. Well… maybe a bit? I at least know that they’ll accept me. And Pinkie gave me the advice to just try around until I find something. But…”
“But?”
“The others just all presented me with an option. You’re the first one that actually asked about how I feel.”
“Oh dear, that’s no good!”
“Yeah.”
“So, I know it’s hard to put into words, but how do you feel?”
“I… I don’t like being a boy. Sometimes, at least. Other times, I’m completely OK with it. Or at least indifferent, I guess. And I just don’t really know. I know that when I saw myself in a dress, I just felt… really happy. Like, it just felt right, you know? I could have looked at the mirror for hours.”
“That’s called euphoria.”
“There’s a name for that?”
Fluttershy nodded. “Gender euphoria is when you get a lot of happiness from the gender you are expressing. It’s a great feeling, right?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s often a first sign that you might be trans, or otherwise not cis.”
“Cis?”
“Cisgender. Basically, cis is when you identify with the gender you were assigned at birth, or hatching, and trans generally means that you identify with a different gender. Although you don’t have to use a label you aren’t comfortable with, of course. You can be nonbinary, and not call yourself trans, and you’re still valid. And it’s true the other way around as well.”
“Makes sense. So, what’s the opposite of euphoria?”
“That would be dysphoria. It can be really dreadful. It’s when you are bothered by the gender you were assigned at birth, or with how you are presenting it, and it can be anything from mild discomfort or a feeling that something is wrong, to debilitating anxiety and self loathing. Dysphoria can come from various things, and can be named after that. For example, for some, their voice reminds them too much of their assigned gender at birth, and that can cause distress. That would be voice dysphoria. Or their height makes them uncomfortable, then its height dysphoria. And you can go on from there. Chest dysphoria, bottom dysphoria…”
“But those are all physical.”
“Yes. But dysphoria can also come from other people. For example, if everypony would call me a stallion all the time, it would make me really dysphoric. Or if you force yourself to present as a gender that isn’t you, that can also do it. Or if others don’t call you by the right pronouns. It may be a little thing in of itself, but it can still be extremely awful for you.”
Thanks to Twilight, Spike was intimately aware of how seemingly negligible things could cause great pain.
“Did you ever think about your pronouns?”
“Uh, no, actually,” Spike admitted, “I was never really bothered by being called a he.”
Self doubt started to rise in Spike. He wanted to just say nothing, but Fluttershy’s friendly smile was too inviting to not open up. “Does… does that mean I can’t be trans?”
Fluttershy’s eyes widened. “Oh, goddess, no! Pronouns aren’t the end all, be all. You can be a trans mare and still use he/him, and you would be just as valid as if you went by she/her. There is no one way to be a mare.”
“Yeah, Rarity and Rainbow Dash make that very clear.”
“But there’s also not just a number of different categories to choose from. There’s just as many types of mare as there are mares. And even more once you include demi and nonbinary mares.”
“Uh?”
“Nonbinary is an umbrella term for gender identities that are outside of the binary of male and female. But they can still identify as mares. Demimares would be one example. A demimare is a pony that only partially identified as a mare, broadly speaking. Being a mare will mean a little bit of a different thing for everypony, or everydragon. You are valid no matter what.”
Spike smiled. “Thanks. That really helps me feel better.”
“You're welcome.”
“You really know a lot about this kind of thing.”
“Oh, I’m speaking from experience,” Fluttershy said before taking a sip of tea.
She waited for Spike to put two and two together.
She had to slow down because the cup was almost half empty.
Then even more.
And some more.
She gave up, emptied the cup, and placed it down.
“You’re trans?!” Spike exclaimed.
“I am.”
“I never would have guessed.”
“Now, that’s not a polite thing to say.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“It’s okay, just be mindful in the future. And I would prefer it if you wouldn’t tell the others.”
“Sure, but why keep it secret?”
“I don’t feel like it’s anypony’s business. I’m a mare, and that’s what counts. And Twilight would probably turn the Everfree upside down if she knew the full story.”
“Huh?”
“You know the story of how I got my cutie mark after falling down into the Everfree?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, it didn’t end there. All the lovely critters were just way too nice to just leave right away. And so I just walked deeper into the forest until I found a jackalope with their horn stuck in a blackthorn shrub unable to get out. The poor thing was really scared. So I helped her, and it turned out that a Seedling had seen me! Fae really scared me, but fae just wanted to thank me for helping faer friend out.”
“Fae? Faer?” Spike asked.
“They’re neopronouns.”
Fluttershy looked at Spike and saw the utter confusion on his face, so explained, “Neopronouns are pronouns that ponies only started using very recently. Some creatures don’t like to use she or he or they, so they either come up with new ones they like, or look at the alternatives others found for themselves. Fae and faer are examples for that.”
“Gotcha.”
“Where was I… Oh, right. Of course I said that it wasn’t a bother at all, but fae insisted on giving me a reward. So fae gave me a special berry to eat, and said that it would help me discover the real me. I ate it, and suddenly got really sleepy. I laid down under a tree, and when I woke up, I was covered in branches, and a filly! A few birdies had kept watch over me and told me that I had been asleep for three days, so I flew back home as fast as I could.”
“And everypony just went with it?”
“Most probably didn’t ever pay enough attention to me to notice that something was different. And my parents are very supportive and accepting. The only one who needed a bit to get used to it was Rainbow Dash. But after the initial shock, and after saying a few... less than helpful things, she got the hang of it. She even got in trouble for fighting with a classmate of ours after they made a transphobic joke.”
“Fighting as in shouting or...?”
Fluttershy looked him in the eyes. “Dashie was always a fan of a more hooves-on approach to resolving interpersonal conflicts.”
“Yeah, sounds about right.” He drank the last of his tea and stood up. “Well, I think I should get going.”
“I hope that I could help you.”
“You did, thanks. I’ll have to think about it for a bit, but… I feel like… I might not feel completely like a mare, or dragoness I guess, but saying that I’m trans, it… it kinda feels right, right now. Although I’m not sure if it will stick. And I… is it then ok if I say I’m trans?”
“Of course it is.”
“But what if I’m not?”
“Do you, right now, feel a connection to the label? Does it feel right to use it?”
Spike thought about it for a moment. A warm feeling spread inside of him. “Yeah. It does.”
“Then that is what counts, and you can definitely use it. And even if you stop using it in the future, it wouldn’t have been a lie or wrong for you to use it.”
“Thanks. Then, yeah. I’m… I’m trans.” Actually saying it made it feel like a weight was lifted off of Spike’s shoulders.
“Yay!” Fluttershy remembered something. “Oh, would you wait for a moment? I need to fetch something.”
“Uh, sure.”
Fluttershy walked over to a bookcase under the stairs. She pulled on one of the books, and the bookshelf swung inwards, revealing a staircase. She disappeared down the steps to her secret basement.
Spike looked at the staircase for a few more moments before standing up and walking around the room. He looked at the pillows, the cupboards, and basically everything he could find to resist the temptation to follow Fluttershy.
He was inspecting the Discord lamp, wondering if it was like Twilight’s music box, when he heard steps coming from the stairs. He quickly put down the lamp and returned to his seat.
Fluttershy stepped back into the room and closed the secret door behind her. Then she walked over to Spike and gave him a knitted scarf made out of blue, pink, and white wool. “Here, this is for you!”
Spike held the scarf in his claws, and it felt like holding a cloud. “Thank you! But, uh… why?”
“It’s a pride scarf,” Fluttershy explained, “it’s in the colours of the trans pride flag. I make a lot of them to sell during Pride Festivals, but for friends, they’re free of course!”
Spike looked from her to the scarf, his eyes sparkling. Had he been holding the biggest and tastiest of gemstones, his expression wouldn’t have been any more joyous. He quickly put the scarf on, grinning from ear to ear, and gave Fluttershy a big hug. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, Spike,” she said, returning the hug with a smile.
Spike let go of Fluttershy and walked to the front door of the cottage, Fluttershy, being a good host, accompanying him.
He opened the door, stepped out, and turned around, looking at Fluttershy standing in the door, and said, “Goodbye! It was nice talking to you!”
“My door is always open if you want to talk again. Goodbye!”
