//------------------------------//
// Chapter 4 
// Story: Sparkle 
// by EquineWhoDoesStuff 
//------------------------------//

I ended up wearing the suit for the fashion show. It felt safer. Disappointing, but safer. Even still, it was the most femme I'd ever been out in public, the suit was very pretty, and Rarity had done my makeup. And some small hiccups and disasters aside, it turned out alright in the end! If I was going to wear that dress, I want to be thinking about that. Not about all the eyes of ponyville scrutinizing me.
The dress is completed though, it’s hanging primly in my closet right now, sparkling when I open the door and waiting for its chance. Alongside it is the suit of course, but also a few more casual dresses Rarity gave me. They weren’t completely original designed-for-me dresses, like the one for the Gala, but that actually helped somewhat. It made them feel less precious, like if I wore them and it didn’t go well, I wouldn’t shatter.
In the weeks after my realization with Rarity, my daily wardrobe hasn’t changed drastically. But it had changed. I like being cute, but I'm still not into clothes enough to wear them all the time. So instead I tend to go with things that are a little easier. Like the hair clip Rarity made for me. Made out of a rosy gold metal, it’s inlaid with a gem the shape and color of my cutie mark, a proud star that sits right where I use the clip to part my mane. It’s small. and pretty, and it makes me feel cute, so I wear it pretty much all the time now.
Speaking of my mane, Rarity has been helping cut and style it while it’s growing out. The messy geometric jumble of locks now sits in a crisp line on my forehead, one that Rarity described as “elegant.” And the end of my mane is starting to show just a bit of an artful curl as it gets longer and drapes down my neck.
I’d never been one of those colts who kept their tail super short, but I’d even let my tail grow out to its full length, and the swish of it while walking was somehow comforting.
It’s a bizarre feeling, being excited to try new accessories and looks. I had certainly never felt excited about how I looked before. But in bits and pieces I’m now starting to actually care about it. And it snowballs into enjoying being out and about more. Because the thing people see when they look at me is something I like a little bit more.
I’m actually on one of those outings right now. Pinkie had invited me to taste test some new recipes, and our other friends were busy, so the honor, and the burden, went to me. So now it’s just me, Pinkie, and the Cakes at Sugar Cube Corner.
Pinkie is a wonderful baker, truly. Testing Pinkie’s goods guarantees eating some marvelous foods. It’s just that some of her creations are a little too advanced for mortal ponies like me to properly appreciate. Such as the spicy caramelized gummy worm layer cake. Of which I just finished ingesting the smallest pieces I feasibly could. 
“Sooooo~! How was it??” Pinkie asks, staring at me closely.
I’m still breathing through my mouth, trying to get it to stop burning. Luckily, I was saved from having to answer by Mrs. Cake speaking up, “Pinkie dear, sorry to interrupt but it’s almost closing time! We’re going to close down the shop now.”
“Awww! But Dusky hasn’t tried all the new recipes yet!” 
Mrs. Cake says, closing up the register, “Well, Dusk Shine is certainly welcome to stay in the shop, as long as you clean up and close things down when you’re done!”
Pinkie salutes. “Yes can do Mrs. Cake, sir!”
I hesitate. I love my friends, and love being around them. But being alone with just one of them has always made me nervous. That fear has been better since the talk we had, but it’s hard to get out of the habit. “Oh, that’s ok Mrs. Cake! There’s no need to go to the trouble!”
”Oh, of course there is Dusk dearie! You're such a nice young stallion, you're welcome anytime!" Ms. Cake says, as they start to trot up the stairs. I do my best to smile back, because the sentiment is kind. Even though it makes something in my chest ache. When she's out of sight, I give a small sigh and turn back toward Pinkie.
Except Pinkie is currently two inches from my face, looking at me with wide eyes. I give a startled yelp, but it doesn't appear to phase Pinkie Pie, she just asks, "Whatcha thinkin' about Dusky?"
 "Oh, not much!"
She moves further into my personal space, tapping my noggin with her hoof. "You sure? You're always thinking at least much! Double or triple much when you're on a roll!" She raises an eyebrow and smiles. "Plusssss, you did kinda look like you were just about to start singing a sad song, or reciting mopey poetry, or both at the same time! I don't know how you'd do that but I think somepony as smart as you could figure it out! Like poem songs! Or song poems! With lots of drama and worry!"
That bad huh? I've been trying not to let it get to me. It didn't get to me before, so why should it now? I don't want to make anypony feel awkward because of me. "Sorry Pinkie, I've just been thinking some about growing up and my childhood and...." I look away a little, afraid what it'll lead to. "And uh, gender."
Her eyes widen. "Gender? I hardly know her!" then she bursts into a fit of self induced giggles, falling onto her back
Seeing Pinkie, I still can't help but smile. She's so cute and fun. I turn myself to the next recipe to try, a ‘Mint Explosion Bundt Cake’, slightly afraid of how literal the explosion part will be. "Yes Pinkie, gender." I say, "Honestly I wish I didn't know her either sometimes." It comes out with more sass and bite than I intended.
Pinkie stops giggling and looks at me curiously, jumping back onto her hooves. "What do you mean?"
As much as it scares me, I've been keeping these thoughts in for weeks, dissecting them to only myself. The idea of sharing them actually sounds really nice. Who knows, Pinkie might have some of her weird wisdom for me 
"It's just... When I was really young I didn't have to think about gender really. I was just a kid. I did kid stuff! I liked books and stories and puzzles, and that's who I was. Ponies still called me a colt, but it didn't interfere with my life. But then... going to school and getting older, it started to matter to other ponies, more and more. But not to me. I didn't understand it! Why did I have to be put into some arbitrary category?" My voice is a lot more... not bitter, more sad than I expected, "It didn't matter, so why did everypony obsess over it! Why did everypony have to fuss about it, why couldn't they just let it be!! Why couldn't I just be me?" 
My voice is harsher than I expected. In my mind I had been trying to examine the topic objectively. But coming out of me, it was something very different. I falter, breathing. I look to Pinkie, hoping she isn't upset, or mad at me. But she just smiles softly, and says, ”Go on, it's ok.” As she does, she pushes the cake and plate away from me, clearly signaling that taste testing time is over until we’ve talked
I exhale. "But... to other ponies it did matter. It mattered to society. I knew things like misogyny were real, and I wanted to be a good pony, so I couldn't just ignore it. So I just...  learned to carry the label of stallion around with me, like a dead weight attached to my identity. Something to be referred to when absolutely necessary, and otherwise ignored."
I look at Pinkie, the corners of my eyes hot. I don't have any point to this tale, just a bundle of emotion I'd never realized I'd been silently suppressing for years. "And thinking back on it... it makes me wish I could just go back to being that little kid, who was just a pony, and not a stallion. It sounds so nice, so free.” My ears droop. “But that’s long gone.” 
I put on a small smile, forcing my voice into a more casual register, to show Pinkie I'm ok, that she doesn't have to take care of me. "And that is what I was thinking about, when Mrs. Cake called me a 'nice young stallion.'"
The smile Pinkie gives me is subdued for her "Dusky, do you want ponies to stop calling you a stallion?"
 "And what? Go by gender neutral identifiers just because it makes me more comfortable? I'm not non-binary, Pinkie. You can't decide to be non-binary just because you want to." 
She stares. The look she's giving me makes me second guess myself. "...Right?"
"Why not! That's what I did," Pinkie says enthusiastically, looking a little confused.
"You— You did? Oh— Oh my goodness have I been misgendering you this whole time? Pinkie I am so sorry—"
"Calm down silly billy~!" Pinkie says, booping my nose to interrupt me, "I still use she/her, and I'm still fine with being called a mare, you got all that right!" She giggles. "But there's more to me than only that! The world is so full of color and life and fun things to explore, why would I limit myself to only one little box? Instead I just be anything and everything I wanna be, whenever I want to be! My gender is a delightful little bundle of chaos and surprises!"
"Oh! Oh, I see! So what does that... make you?" I say, wincing at the possibly rude phrasing.
"Well, mostly I think of myself as Pinkie!! Because that's me, I'm Pinkie Pie!" She says proudly. Then she taps her chin with a hoof "But if you're looking for a label-y deal-y, I kinda like genderqueer mare! Emphasis on the queer!"
I strain my mind to take that information in and categorize it as thoroughly as possible. I know the term genderqueer, and obviously mare as well. I don't know that specific combination, but the name combined with Pinkie's explanations gives me a vague intuition of its meaning. My voice is a little awed, "And you just... did that? Because you wanted to?"
"Yuppers puppers!" She says cheerfully, "It doesn't change a whole lot about how ponies refer to me. But I like thinking of myself that way, and it makes me happy!! It feels super comfy!" She looks at me. "Do you think that's a silly reason for me to be non-binary?" Her tone isn't accusing, she asks it like she already knows my answer.
"No! No, of course not, I think that's really beautiful." I softly, hoping she can hear the sincerity in my voice.
She tilts her head. "So why's it any different for you?"
"I— Because—" My voice peters out, as does my instinctive defense that no, that's different, I'm different. Because I don't have an answer for why that is. Or, not a logical one. Just this gut reaction of shame and inauthenticity. Like if I dig deep enough, I'll find the reason why I can't be non-binary, the reason why I'm actually just some awful weirdo, and my friends will all hate me if they figure out the awful truth and— I shiver. "I don't know," I say finally.
"Then what's the harm in trying it out?"
"That seems... difficult."
"Nah! it's easy, watch this!" She says and turns to face the empty parlor. She does a sweeping wave to her invisible audience. "Hello everypony!" She gestures toward me. "I'd like you to meet Dusk! They're my very cute super best friend, and they're the smartest nicest lil pony around!!" She starts counting, "Their interests include; books, and friendship, and being purple!"
"Well, being purple isn't so much an interest. But. Yes." My cheeks are hot. "You really think I'm cute?"
Pinkie immediately wraps me up in a huge hug "Duh!! And you've just gotten cuter!! With all your little accessories and being all flouncy and soft!"
"O-oh," Is what I say.
She grins at me. "But enough about that!! How did it feel?"
I pause in thought, trying to separate the warm fuzzy feelings created by the nice things 
Pinkie said about me, and whatever feelings the change in gender reference invoked. It's a little hard to sort out. But what's obvious is that that stab of pain is gone.
It's... it's nice actually. To just be Dusk Shine the pony, and not Dusk Shine the stallion. Dusk Shine the... cute pony.
“I… actually think I like that a lot.”
“OooooOoooOOoOO~!” Pinkie grins. “I’m super glad!!” She sidles up next to me and elbows me softly “So~ Do ya want me to keep using them?”
I raise my hoof and open my mouth, then hesitate. Do I really want to take that step?
Yes, yes of course I do. My own eagerness surprises me. Am I too eager? Does that 
mean I— 
No. No, I am not going to spiral about that too. Because I’ve just realized there’s a very reasonable logic to my response. “Well. Thinking about it. Gendering ponies because of how they were born doesn’t make very much sense.” I furrow my brows, voice growing more animated. “There’s no good reason why being a colt or a stallion should’ve been forced on me!”
It came out more heated than I intended, so I try to force myself back into the lecturing tone of voice, “So. In a more sane world, I’d already be using neutral language. Switching to they/them isn’t really a statement. It’s simply me correcting a preexisting inefficiency back to its base state.” I conclude, slamming one hoof down into the other.
Pinkie turns her head, and then turns it a little more, looking at me. Then her head bounces back upright and she nods cheerfully “Yeah totally! Makes sense Dusky!”
I feel like Pinkie might be humoring me, but I appreciate her reassurance nonetheless.
“Are you gonna tell the rest of the girls? I know they’ll all be super happy about it!!!”
“I…” There’s a certain amount of confidence flowing through my veins. My argument feels like it makes sense, and that’s much easier for me to deal with than just whatever these feelings have been. “I think… I am!”
“Eeee! Woohoo!!!” Pinkie Pie wraps me up in a big hug. “I’m so happy for you!”
 I blush, hugging back softly. “Thanks.”

As it turns out, premeditated confidence is much easier than confidence in the moment. After a few days staying furtively cooped up in my library, I finally ask Pinkie for help, and so she tags along with me to tell our friends. It’s faintly embarrassing that I’m holding onto her presence like an emotional security blanket, but… but there’s nothing wrong with relying on your friends to help you! I even sent a friendship report about that a month ago!
Which brought me to the first of my friends to tell. This was the visit I was most nervous about, it would surely set the tone for all the rest. 
Pinkie enthusiastically knocked on the cottage door, whilst I hid behind her. Fluttershy appeared in the opening doorway.
Pinkie gave a bounce for good measure and said, “Hey Flutter Butter Shutter Shy~!! Can we come in? We have super exciting news!”
“Oh! Of course.” Fluttershy smiled fondly, and led us in.
Soon we were sitting on Fluttershy’s couch, with tea in front of us. It reminds me a little too much of how this all started, the day I finally expressed my fears to the girls. But that worked out well, right?
Pinkie addresses Fluttershy, who’s looking between us curiously, “So~ Dusky wants to tell you something, right Dusky?”
“I— Yes.” I swallow. “I’ve been thinking, and talking, and… contemplating and—” Too much information! Cut it! “And I wanted to tell you that—” I look down. “I’m Agender, and I’d like it very much if you’d use they/them for me.” My voice trails off into inaudibility, barely a whisper. If I wasn’t so anxious I’d find it funny that my and Fluttershy’s roles have been reversed.
There’s a small but significant gasp, the kind that comes from Fluttershy being truly surprised. I look up, but instead of seeing fear, discomfort, or disappointment, what I see is joy on her face.
“Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you!” She gushes, hovering above her seat. When she notices she’s started flying, she blushes a little and slowly drifts back down, and clears her throat. “So, are you going to pick a new name?”
I start responding, only for my eyes to go wide. I— I hadn’t even considered that! Oh pony feathers I am completely unprepared for this! Should I pick a new name? Do I have to?
Seeing my panic, Fluttershy says, “Don’t worry, there’s no reason you have to change your name! And you have plenty of time to think about it if you ever want to!”
The advice is simple, and coming from Fluttershy it calms me. Even though I’m trying not to put her on a pedestal, I can’t help but view her as… as the ‘elder trans.’ Like, she’s such a perfect mare, everything I’m not, and whatever she says will determine my validity. “And you’re… ok with this? You think it’s a good idea?”
Fluttershy looks at me gently. “Of course! I know how scary it can be to tell somepony something like that, so it must really matter to you! That makes it something to embrace I think.” She says, tilting her head slightly and smiling at me.
The sight, and the support it shows, warms my heart. And it makes me feel a little more confident about telling the others. If Fluttershy says it’s ok, then it must be, right?
We stay chatting and drinking tea for a long while. Our cue to leave was when Pinkie offered to ‘Whip something up real quick in the kitchen, and turn this into a real party!’
I dragged the reluctant party pony out of the cottage, Fluttershy telling me I could always come to her for help if I needed it. 
Heading to Sweet Apple Acres, Applejack was, of course, supportive. She threw an arm around me and said, “Bein’ honest about how you really feel takes a lot of courage, I’m real proud of you!” Then she promptly invited me to come inside and have lunch with her family. But I politely declined, saying I had more ponies to visit before the day was through, and Applejack waved me and Pinkie off.
The next we told was Rarity. She was very supportive, and clearly chomping at the bit about what this meant for my future wardrobe options. But she had enough grace not to say “I told you so.”
Rainbow Dash? Not quite so much. I tell her, and in response, Rainbow Dash’s face splits into the most self satisfied, most obnoxious grin I’ve ever seen on a pony. Just when I think she’s going to start teasing me, she dives down and basically sweeps me off my hooves into a hug that’s uncharacteristically touchy for the brash pegasus. She lets me down, and pulls back, still grinning at me. “Nice going egghead! I totally called it~”
I stifle my protests, in no rush to remind her she predicted I would be a mare. That can wait, I’d let this silly pegasus have her moment. Especially if it meant I got more hugs.