What does it mean, to be?
Author's Note
Stemmed from Personal Experience
What does it mean, to be?
“... What do you think… ‘trust’ means to you?”
Twilight’s mouth still had that sour aftertaste of the morning coffee stained on her tastebuds, her mind hyper-fixating on that minute detail to avoid thinking about the ostensibly imaginary question.
The voices inside Twilight’s head - if she could call them that - can be very conflicting sometimes. They weren’t always contradictory; in fact, quite the contrary. They tend to be very logical and grounded in reality. It has helped her brainstorm specific problems in the past. But they had their fair share of weird moments dawn upon her.
She looks up to the Alabaster Alicorn gazing at her with patient curiosity. It wasn’t until she realized that the question she heard came from a very corporeal source that she finally snapped out of her stupor.
They sat upon a checkered quilt with gold and white squares, hosting a Picnic Basket. Inside was an accommodation of snacks and beverages, ranging from soft to hard. There were baguettes from Prance and grapes from Roam - as well as Wine from the vineyards of Wingbardy in Griffonia.
Twilight sat among a meadow of Lavenders and Lilacs. Her personal favorite spot of the Royal Gardens, a fact that Princess Celestia wasn’t oblivious to as she arranged the impromptu picnic for her former student. The former came to the latter to discuss a certain experience that they had just a week prior.
When Celestia and Twilight greeted one another in Canterlot earlier that afternoon, Twilight was her usual beaming self if a little more radiant perhaps. They discussed the trip to Canterlot (which was uneventful), and the reason as to Twilight’s sudden visit. Celestia was more than willing to spend time with her protégé, but it wasn’t lost on her that there was more to this visit than just sightseeing Canterlot or catching up with Celestia. There was an ulterior motive that she sensed.
This hunch of hers was then solidified into a sneaking suspicion when Twilight asked for a private spot to talk to her alone. She suggested the Royal Gardens, as it was currently in bloom during this time of the season.
That was how they both got here, sitting in the meadow surrounded by various shades of violet whilst they enjoyed various delicacies. Twilight wasted no time soon after they began eating their lunch. She talked about her current mood, and how that wasn’t always the case just a few weeks prior.
She talks about the problem that Twilight had in the last few months. She relents that it had gotten out-of-hoof at one point, nearly taking over her life like a cancer. She then disclosed about a certain… experience that she had with Zecora.
She failed to describe it in the proper justice of detail that she had hoped to conceptualize, a fact that never ceased to annoy Twilight when she tried to grasp at the memories of that night. Celestia patiently listens to her former student ramble about this experience for a while, saying she only remembers but a single phrase.
‘Please don’t ever take the pain away.’
An intriguing lesson to remember, for sure. Twilight wasn’t sure where to begin processing what she felt, hence why she came here. She feels better, no doubt. Whatever that elixir that Zecora gave her was, it seemed to improve her mood substantially.
The problem that she faced now was that she was afraid. Afraid that what had plagued her would happen again. She doesn’t wish to be reliant on Zecora to make this problem disappear temporarily.
She wishes to fix it all together. But how?
How does one convince oneself that it is okay to be miserable without falling into the same trap she fell into? How can one dig themselves out of that hole on their own when they find themselves trapped? How does one avoid falling into this trap altogether?
Celestia is somewhat overwhelmed by this sudden responsibility of therapy thrown into her lap, but she lets go of any discomfort and confusion, focusing on the present moment.
At the present moment, Twilight needs help. Celestia knows all too well what plagues her. Her thousands of years of life helped her discern the ailments, and now she is to be the cure.
But this will be… tricky.
Twilight finally finishes the long-winding tangent of her aftermath and her new problem, profusely apologizing afterward for her incessant rambling. Of course, Celestia soothes Twilight that there is nothing to apologize over.
She tells Twilight to calm down. She tells Twilight to breathe. Both of which Twilight follows. She seems lost in her mind.
That was when Celestia asked the question.
“... What do you think… ‘trust’ means to you?”
Twilight’s eyes lock onto Celestia’s, brow arched and head tilted.
“Baby steps first,” Celestia explains, “then we take the lunges to discuss you further. But for now, answer the question.”
Celestia’s words echoed in Twilight’s mental chambers, searching for a hidden meaning or a trick.
She found only genuine curiosity, honeyed words coated in patience. Twilight rubs an idle hoof on her withers.
“You have your friends,” Celestia continues, “yet they couldn’t help you. You also refused to seek help actively. You merely ‘wallowed in your misery’ as Zecora eloquently said. And I can’t help but wonder why.”
“But… I did try!”
Did you though? The voice in her head doubted.
She was lying to herself again. Celestia was right, she didn’t necessarily seek help because she didn’t wish to. But… why?
“Why didn’t you?” Celestia seemed to have plucked those words from Twilight’s frontal cortex and voiced them aloud. As if she had sensed Twilight's self-doubt.
“I… I don’t know. To be perfectly honest, I don’t know why I didn’t seek help. I can only remember what I felt when I thought about it. And it was unpleasant enough to deter me from trying.”
“That does not sound like the same Twilight Sparkle I remembered from the School of Gifted Unicorns; That one would spend hours questioning everything, and the why of it. And if she couldn’t find an answer, she would make one.
“This version of Twilight you are describing seems like a negative doppelganger.”
Twilight reared her head back a little in confusion.
“... Just a joke. I don’t really mean I think you are a changeling.”
“No, it’s just-” She takes a moment to contemplate. “... you just perfectly described how I felt about myself, at the time.” She looks at her forehooves, gazing at the coat hiding the supple skin beneath. “It felt like I was a stranger in another pony’s body. Like I lost what it means to be… myself. And I can’t really prepare myself for when that happens again.”
“... ‘When?’” Celestia repeats. “You expect this to happen again?”
“... It feels likely.” she deduced. “Probable, even. Not at all distant from the realm of possibility. I know it will happen again. This isn’t just an educated guess.”
There was silence for a while, as Celestia gently sipped the now cool Chamomile tea cup that had been idling next to her. Like the brew she drank, Twilight too felt cold and bitter. And she was quickly losing her warmth.
Something that Celestia needed to fix.
“... You never really answered my question.”
Twilight looks up at Celestia, eyes afraid. She knew this would happen.
Here it comes, the voice in her head thought.
“What do you think trust means to you?” She emphasizes the last word with a nod in her direction.
And again, Twilight felt that familiar, cold blanket of anxiety seep into her.
“I thought I already answered…” She mumbles. “I… I don’t know really. I know that ponies can interpret it differently; Many think it's the ability to share secrets with as much privacy as possible. Others think its a renewed sense of Confidence in one another. And some… some look at it as a tool to control others by; gaining new favors, discarding old ones.”
She sighs bitterly. “I feel like the definition has grown more and more convoluted as time went by. And I feel lost for what to make of it. I know I should feel grateful for the friends and family I have, and for future companions as well, but… I don’t feel like I am… I don’t know what the proper word for it is, I think… rewarded? Something like that.”
It had always troubled Celestia to see a problem plaguing Twilight that she couldn’t solve on her own. And it fell onto her to help Twilight see. She knew where to start, though. These talks are all too familiar to the ones she has with Luna…
“And… What if I told you that trust can also mean hope?”
Twilight looks out to the hedges decorated with the colorful flora that surrounded the two Alicorns. She thinks back to the memories she had with her friends.
How they saved the Crystal Empire.
How they converted Discord.
How she became an Alicorn.
How they defeated Tirek.
How she came to be at this present moment.
“... Before I was sent to Ponyville, if you asked me that same question, I would’ve called you crazy. But… even then… I would know. That what you are saying is true.”
She pauses for a moment, then sternly looks into Celestia’s eyes.
“Do you ever think that, maybe, everypony might have been misguided? For holding on to so much hope? Doesn’t it just make you weaker? Won’t it just make the pain hurt more?”
Celestia smiles. A warm, heavenly smile fit for a living goddess. She could feel herself warming up in the cheeks as Celestia gave that loving smile.
“Obviously not.”
That answer didn’t surprise Twilight, but it did leave more questions.
“And why’s that?” Twilight asks.
“Because I know that they are trying.”
Her neck cranes down to nuzzle against Twilight’s withers. The latter’s cheeks were now a crimson red as Celestia spoke softly into her ears.
“If not for themselves, then for others as well.”
This isn’t healthy.
This isn’t real, is it?
You’re talking to yourself again.
This isn’t Therapy.
This isn’t real.
This is only an echo chamber.
Things that only YOU want to hear.
Things that only YOU want to see.
Never even looking for the truth.
There go the voices again. Twilight furrows her brow and squints her eyes shut, desperately trying to drown them out.
YOU NEED HELP.
Warm feathery wings and long, but slender hooves surround and cradle her being. The heat from Celestia’s body seems much more lively than any other source of what she felt before. It was inviting, caring, and open-minded. It was like being in the womb again.
It was like she was in a cocoon, locked away in a forgotten primordial world. One where she can only be.
To be ‘what,’ it doesn’t matter, she is only to be. And she relishes it, retreats into the warmth, and lets go of any resistance. Letting go of any tension and control. Her muscles sag and feel blissfully asleep.
Pleasant memories are coming back to her. She can remember weeping emeralds.
She wishes she could stay like this forever. But her curiosity is still burning brighter than her desire for peace.
“... But,” she mutters through Celestia’s Coat, drooling a little as she slurs, “what if that hope was built upon years of a flawed structure?”
“Such as?”
“Like… if they had their trust breached. Or if they had breached that trust themselves. Or if both sides have been breaching for years. Or if one side feels like they are breaching that trust. What then?”
The hooves tighten around her just a tad, and the feathers begin to stroke her back gently in slow, soothing strokes. Twilight feels tingly goosebumps emanate on her skin beneath the coat.
“I… I would be upset.” She gently admits. “Such a thing is unavoidable, unfortunately. The best thing one can do would be to let go at the moment. But that doesn’t mean one has to move on in life; you don’t have to move on to let go.”
I know, I understand,
“... but it still hurts.”
Celestia tightens the grip around Twilight again, nuzzling her head beneath her chin whilst carefully minding the horn. She gives a small kiss on her scalp, which Twilight acknowledges by retreating further into her mentor’s fluffy chest with a blush.
“It feels like,” Twilight continued, “that I’ve simultaneously lost something. And yet, I cannot let go of it either; Something that has been in my life for so long… And I feel like I can never get that back.”
She shifts her head to speak more clearly. “I feel like… I feel like this could also be the reason, why I feel so unhappy. That I refused to believe that things turned out the way they did. My friends, my ascension, my coronation… everything.”
A tight vice wraps around her heart bitterly, so much so that tears begin to stream down her cheeks as her eyes sting. “It's moments like these where I hate myself for not being able to accept the changes of the world around me. That I can’t keep up with everything that is happening.” Her voice quivers as she struggles to maintain her composure, her throat tightening as she struggles to breathe through her tears.
Celestia could feel the heaves in her former student’s body as she endeavored to comfort her. She plants another kiss, patiently waiting for Twilight’s tears to cease. For her to let it out. They stayed like this for who knows how long. And for who knows how much longer?
But to Celestia, it didn't matter so long as she was willing. She cradles Twilight; a living goddess nurturing her acolyte.
A few minutes pass, and Celestia opens her mouth to speak.
“Then you try to accept yourself for who you are.”
Twilight’s watery red eyes look up at Celestia in confusion.
“Huh?”
“Forcing yourself to be some pony that isn’t you, for the sake of loving yourself, only begets more misery. Before accepting others, you must accept yourself. And before you can accept yourself, you must first look within yourself and learn to love you; for who you are.”
... I love you.
More memories are surfacing. She can remember the joy in love. And the transience of it.
More tears stream down Twilight's cheeks at Celestia’s words, as the former chokes her next words out. “And… if I can’t? If I can’t learn to love myself? If this… hatred of me, still resides? What then?”
Celestia smiles again, pulling Twilight closer into her chest with yet another kiss on her scalp.
“Then, this will not be the last time we talk; that we will see each other about this.”
Celestia begins to rock slowly back and forth with Twilight in her hooves, like a mother softly soothing a foal to sleep.
“I know that your journey is far from over. And I know that you are scared of what the future brings. And I know that you don’t think you have the strength to do this by yourself.”
She could feel tears of her own welling up in her eyes as she maintained composure.
“You do not have to do it alone. If not your friends, if not your family, if not your number one assistant, then you can find solace with me. Because I will always be here for you. You are not as weak as you say you are. And I know that you have come a long way. But even I can see that you are exhausted from this self-loathing. This lack of life in you is not who you are, nor is it who you wish to be.
“Should you ever need me, you know that I am here. And I will be more than happy to help you. I always am, and I always will.”
Twilight’s hooves latch around Celestia’s abdomen, more tears staining Celestia’s coat as she wailed. It was messy, snotty, and embarrassing. But it was sorely needed. It was the healthiest thing she had done in a long time.
More memories surfacing.
I Love you.
It’s okay.
Thank you.
“... I hope so.”
They stayed like this for who knows how long. hours, perhaps. It felt like an eternity, despite the ephemerality. Twilight still was scared and hurt, unsure of what would happen to her in the future.
But maybe, just maybe, she won’t have to deal with this all alone. At least one other pony understands. She understands that it’s okay to not be okay.
Twilight felt relieved like a mountain had been lifted off of her shoulders.
She knows everything will be just fine.
