Thunderstorm

by LiberatedGirl

Rating: teen
Tags: Human, Thunderlane, Roseluck, Drama, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 1535

Thunderlane struggles with gender

Thunderlane struggles with gender.

Can Roseluck understand what he needs?

Content Warning: This story doesn't actually involve sex, but it does briefly mention the existence of rapists.

Published 2022-08-04 17:40:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-08-04 17:40:00 UTC

Thunderstorm

“Thunder! Hey Thunder, open up!”

She banged on the door, and I nearly caught my own chin on the pull-up bar. Rose? I scrambled down and dashed for the door, tripping on a dumbbell on my way there.

“Hold on! I’m coming!”

“You’re not gonna believe this, Thunder!”

“What? What is it?!”

I swung open the door as fast as I could, thinking maybe she was in trouble again. For a moment I flashed back to the whole crazy history. The bullying. The awkward stares. The fights with her mom. The crying on my shoulder. Just when I thought she was actually happy some new disaster comes right out of nowhere-

“Hey!” she squealed, pulling me in for a hug. “You are not gonna believe this!”

She practically pranced over to the kitchen with her bookbag. I stood in the doorway, stunned.

“Uh…” I started, “so are you ok?”

“Ok?? I’m more than ok, Thunder! I have news!”

I turned around, shutting the door behind me. “Ok, well you just scared me, is all.”

She put a hand over her heart. (Geez, her movements were so feminine. You’d never think she’d been raised any other way.)

“Oh my gosh,” she said, “did I scare you?”

“Uh, yeah!”

“I am so sorry” she said, but the smile never left her face. “It’s just that I have some amazing, life-changing news for you and I didn’t want to wait.”

She dug through her bag until she found what she was looking for, pulling out some sort of…water bottle? No, I guess you’d call it a flask. It was wooden, with crazy designs carved into it.

“Zecora just got back from her trip.”

“Rose-”

“And she was busy, but I made my case”

“Rose-”

“And I got her to whip me up a potion.”

“Rose, I know you’re trying to be a helpful friend, here, but-”

“And not just any potion-”

“I don’t think-”

“This is the potion that I took when I became Rose.”

I sighed. I looked away. “And I’m happy for you, obviously. But…”

I looked at her face. That brilliant smile, tempered with the tiniest dose of tension. She’d hadn’t expected this.

“It’s…” I rubbed the back of my neck with one hand. “It’s permanent, Rose. You don’t need another one, right?”

She put the potion on the table. Her voice was a bit quieter now. “That’s because it’s for you.”

I sighed again. I sat down on one of the chairs. There was a long silence.

“I …appreciate what you’re trying to do. But I, uh…look, it’s not for me, ok?”

She sat down right across from me, the potion between us. “Thunder…I-I mean you don’t need to take it now, obviously. I-I get it! It’s a big deal. It’s a big transition.”

“Rose, I-”

She took my hand. “And it was hard for me, obviously. I couldn’t have done it without you!”

“I was glad to help.”

“You did help. And now I wanna help you. And heck, I’m the trailblazer, right? People in town are a lot more understanding nowadays. Or at least they keep their mouths shut, I don’t know. But some of them are really accepting, and it’s all thanks to you-"

“-and you!”

“The point is that you don’t need to be afraid anymore! You can do this!”

A long pause. “...I don’t want to do this.”

I looked in her eyes. She was tearing up, filled with love and hope…

…and ignorance.

“Yes you do.” she whispered.

“Rose, I -”

“Do you honestly think you can hide from me? I mean you’ve already showed me!”

“No. I tried to show you.”

“Tried? What do you mean, tried? I saw your closet, Thunderlane! I have literally been inside your closet and I saw with my own eyes-”

“You’re not-”

“No no no, let’s check! Let’s go check in the closet. What is in Thunder’s closet?”

She walked to the bedroom as she spoke, opening the large closet at the end. Reluctantly I followed her in.

“Alright, she continued, “Here we have the guy section, with all the stuff that people expect you to wear. Pants. Shirts. Very normal. But wow, what’s this over here? Is this a dress, thunder? Is this a blue dress?”

“Rose-”

“Is this a dress?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“Do you wear it?”

“Yes.”

“And is this a bra? Paired up with a wing-bra to fill it out and make it look like you’ve got real boobs?”

“Yes.”

“And is this a skirt over here? And a low-cut blouse? And that crop top that you modeled for me, with the bra, just a few weeks ago?”

“Yes, it is! Stop asking!”

She walked right up to me and dropped the sarcasm. I knew she cared. She really cared.

“Then how do you get off telling yourself that you’re not trans?”

“Because I’m not.”

“Then why do you dress up as a girl, Thunder? When do you dress up like a girl when no one else is looking?”

“Because I’m scared, dammit!”

I sat down on the bed. She sat next to me, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“You don’t have to be scared,” she whispered.

“Rose…” I took a breath. “When you told me six years ago how you felt, how you’d always felt, I listened to you and I supported you. Didn’t I?”

She nodded. “You did.”

“Then listen to me now.”

We sat in silence while I gathered my thoughts.

“I’m not…scared of what people would think if I came out as trans. First off because I’m not trans. Secondly, because you already blazed the path. You took the worst of it. You’re right, people are better now. I think I could do it if that’s what I wanted to do. But that’s not…what I actually want…for myself.”

I saw the confusion in her eyes. “What do you want, then?”

“I want…to be male…and not be scared.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m scared of what people think, Rose. I’m scared that they see me as some sort of monster.”

I showed her my arms. “Look at me. Big strong muscles, right? That’s cool. That’s attractive. Except when it’s not! I keep reading things online. Things about…you know…women are scared, right? They’re scared of men. They’re especially scared of men who are attracted … to them. There’s a lot of women who have been…raped or molested or whatever and that’s awful, obviously, and it makes them feel scared. And it makes me feel guilty.”

“Why do you feel guilty?” she whispered.

“Because every time I try talking to a girl…I feel like maybe she’s scared, you know? Big muscles on a guy. Big guy, big strong guy, the kind of guy who could could rape you if he really wanted to. And I really don’t want to scare anyone. I don’t even want to take the chance. So…I feel guilty that I wanna talk to girls at all.”

“You talk to me.”

“That’s because I knew you first before you came out. So I wasn’t nervous, and neither were you. I got to know you first and then you changed your name. I could handle that! I already knew that you weren’t scared of me. But I don’t know about other girls.”

“I don’t get it. That’s why you dress up?”

I sighed. “I feel guilty…even just imagining that I’m…gonna try to kiss a girl, ok? So…sometimes it’s easier just…to imagine that I’m the girl, and I’m asking some guy to kiss me. Because nobody’s ever scared of the girls. Nobody thinks a girl might be a rapist. So, it’s … it’s easier that way. That’s why I do it.”

My head sank low. “But I don’t want to change…who I am. Not really. I wasn’t born in the wrong body. I just…I wanna learn…not to be scared..or ashamed…of who I am.”

My breathing became ragged. Rose put a hand on my shoulder. “There was this time…I tried talking to a girl at work and she just…she got this look in her eyes, this sort of fear. I hadn’t done anything, I swear! I just…I didn’t know what to do.”

“It’s ok. It’s ok. I’m sure you did nothing wrong.”

“I just want to…tell people how I feel…who I’m attracted to…without anyone…judging me…thinking I’m bad, I’m wrong, I’m a creep, I’m a rapist or something. I’m so scared… I’m so scared….”

“It’s ok, Thunder. I understand. It’s ok to be you. It’s ok.”

Tears streamed down my cheeks.

“You’re a good man, Thunder. Don’t forget it.”

Author's Note

Gender is complicated. Many people, of whatever gender, have been hurt in various ways related to their gender. Sometimes people are hurt in ways that aren't obvious or expected. Sometimes people are hurt in ways that other people hadn't even thought of before.

For more thoughts on men (and women) who feel guilty about being attracted to women, see this post: https://theunitofcaring.tumblr.com/post/106549627991/that-scott-aaronson-thing

Also this: https://towardsagentlerworld.tumblr.com/post/106632073864/that-scott-aaronson-thing

Also this: https://slatestarcodex.com/2015/01/01/untitled/

Of course, there are other articles about other kinds of gender-based trauma, and that's valid. Gender is complicated. Many different kinds of trauma can exist at the same time.