//------------------------------//
// 15 - Therapy 
// Story: Roads of Life 
// by PonyWrites 
//------------------------------//

“You wanna know what?” Sweetie asked as she snuggled up to Apple Bloom in the treehouse. They had just finished another round of algebra homework when Sweetie had her crazy idea. “I want to go to a drag show,” she continued.
        “Is that like drag racing or what?” Scootaloo snorted, looking up from her pet project of dismantling a VCR. She unscrewed a widget and put it in a plastic bag along with the screws. 
        “No silly, it’s where men dress up as women and vice versa. Why are you even doing it like that anyway?”
        “I would have much preferred a race…” she said, working on another bit. “And because I want to put it back together. I don’t want to lose a piece.” She looked up to see Sweetie pouting, her eyes big and sad looking, her bottom lip sticking out. “No, not that face!” The gaze continued. “No, no, stop! Fine, I’ll go.”
        Apple Bloom chuckled. “Might as well. We should enter Rumble, he’d take the cake.”
        “We’d have to beat men off with a stick.” Scootaloo said, causing the others to laugh. “What… Oh… Isn’t that painful?”
        “You’d have to ask Button,” Rumble said, closing the trap door.
        “And just where have you been? Any longer and you would have found us trying to occupy ourselves waiting for you to help with history.” Apple Bloom got up and kissed him. 
        “Button needed to vent. Don’t worry about it, he just thinks everything is drama in a relationship.”
        “So Rumbly, we were thinking about going to a drag show next weekend?”
        “It’s next weekend? Aw shit, I already promised dad we’d go camping!” Scootaloo interjected.
        “Oh my goodness,” Sweetie said, “I’m sorry. You go rebuild your relationship with your father.”
        “You sure?”
        “Yes, yes! I’ll be fine with these two, your father is more important.”
        “OK. I feel bad about not being able to go--”
        “Shush shush! I’ll be fine and you probably would have hated it anyway.” 
        “OK fine!” Scootaloo threw up her hands in surrender.
        “I promised myself I wouldn’t play this card… but Scoots… be lucky you have a father. Especially one that wants to be your father.” Apple Bloom finished with a sigh.
        “You’re right I…” Scootaloo huffed and raked a hand through her hair. “I wasn’t looking forward to it honestly…I’ll go.”
        “You’ll be fine,” Sweetie smiled. “Promise.” Scootaloo would believe anything her love said, even if it was about a purple unicorn princess visiting their high school. Or did that actually happen? Her memories were a little fuzzy. She glanced at her phone and stood up, knocking the VCR over. “Shit, forgot about my appointment. Gotta go.” Before she left she gave Sweetie a kiss and bolted off.


Scootaloo’s therapist was a large and friendly man that reminded her of Santa Claus. He wore a tweed suit and bowtie all the time. Each time Scootaloo visited he wore a different tie, and she began to wonder how many he had. His hair was white with age, and he held a full and well-kept beard. He spoke calmly and quietly, in a gentle tenor. He was about as threatening as a snail. Perhaps her medication played a part, but she opened up quickly to Doctor Hopper. By this session, he knew her life story already, and had gleamed some insight into her situation. Which was good because Scootaloo was loaded with questions. Like one that had been bothering her since last week.
        “What do you know about Transsexuals?” Scootaloo asked. 
        “Not much, I’ll admit. I know it’s people that don’t identify with their own bodies so they fix that. I can’t even begin to imagine what it’s like, even though many have been a patient. Why do you ask?”
        “Well, it’s just that the book the doctor gave me in the hospital had a trans character. It was a girl that acted like a man and eventually had some magical spell cast on her to make her one. I’ve been thinking about it ever sense.” 
        “Have you done any other research?”
        “No.”
        “Sorry, I nearly forgot who I was talking to,” they shared a chuckle. “You’re thinking about transitioning yes?”
        “I’m curious.” Scootaloo pouted. “Of course, the last time that happened...”
“Curiosity didn’t kill the cat, trust me. What I would recommend is to research it. Read everything. See what other people have gone through, if you feel that way yourself, and if you’re willing to risk it. Unfortunately it’s not as easy as a magic spell. You’re changing every single part about you, basically. It’s not to be taken lightly.”
Scootaloo nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
“So, the medication seems to be working? How’s life? Anything exciting happen?”
“Yeah, I’d definitely say the medication is working. I’m not happy all the time, but… I can feel emotions now. Again.” Scootaloo gave a giggle-snort. “I just remembered two days ago. My girlfriends and I had to watch a movie for English and write a short paper on it. I was bawling tears of joy by the end and they were just looking at me like I was nuts.”
“Yes, many do report a period of stronger emotions after starting medication, followed by a more… even reaction. Don’t be ashamed of your emotions.”
“Oh no, I love… feeling things. Life’s pretty great. I just wish there were less homework.” 
Hopper gave a light laugh, high pitched and more like a hen clucking. “Do you plan on going to college?”
“I don’t plan that far ahead. Why would I?”
“Fair enough. You have too much stuff right now to worry about. So, anything exciting?”
“I was getting to that. Well, I saw a movie for fun with my harem. It was Rumble’s turn to pick and I was kind of dreading it. He always likes those really weird films but I enjoyed it. My sister broke up with her girlfriend. I’ve already told you what I think about that. I think it’s for the best. Maybe now Rainbow will realize how… needy she was. And yes, I’m aware of the irony.”
“Here’s a thought. When was the last time you did something just by yourself. No harem?”
Scootaloo thought back. Even with giant holes in her memory she knew the answer was months ago. “That’s the same advice I gave her... I think I’ll go to the skate park tomorrow.” Scootaloo grinned at the idea. 
“Depending on others for your happiness isn’t a good idea. But it can be a pretty good jump start. Oh darn. We’re out of time.” Hopper smiled warmly. “I’ll see you next week.” 
Scootaloo helped herself to a piece of caramel on her way out.


Scootaloo just decided she’d make a day out of it. She told Rainbow about her plans and her big sister had called it “a date with herself.” As much as she loved Sweetie and the others, these would be a little personal. And she wanted to surprise them afterward. She hated getting her hair cut, so that was where she went first. She learned a long time ago it’s better to face down her problems, and hopefully not punch them nearly as often. Best to get it over with, she opened the door. 
She was not gay enough for this. She was unworthy to be in such a place. It smelled of girl and cleanliness and kinda like Sweetie so maybe she could handle it. A flamboyant black man with bleached hair and a partially unbuttoned shirt and a friendly smile ushered her to a chair. 
“What can I do for you hun?” The stylist asked.
For a brief moment she panicked. It was early by her standards on a weekend and the pills hadn’t quite kicked in. She calmly remembered that she had prepared for this. “Pixie.” She said. “And while we’re at it, could you put in some red tips?” She said with last-minute inspiration.
“Alright hun I’ll take care of you. How do you normally wear it?”
Scootaloo realized the last time she even thought about styling her hair was probably… well… since before her grand attempt. “I kinda like the messy look.” 
“I can see that. To each their own.” He said, without judgement.He washed her hair and gave her a relaxing scalp massage. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all, when you don’t have your mother making you get the same hairstyle forever.
 A few snips in, the stylist made a comment. “Forgive me for saying this, but you’re setting my gaydar off like no other.”
Scootaloo chuckled, completely disarmed and comfortable. Is this why girls went to the spa? The shampoo smelled… relaxing. “Same. You caught me.” Her heart tried to kick her and her breathing shallowed as her whole body went tense. So she was just casually coming out now, hmm? What a foolish idea.
The stylist laughed. “You got me too.” And then they launched into a discussion about recent legislation (Sunset’s name came up twice), dating, and all that good stuff. 
When the work was done she looked in the mirror and realized she looked very androgynous. She was somewhere between a scene boy and a girl, her thin lips and squarish jaw adding to the confusion. Perfect. She thanked him and paid, and then as she closed the door to the shop, she realized she had no idea what his name was. 
Thanks to Rarity’s efforts a few months ago, her attire was sufficiently ambiguous, so she was focusing more on her physical appearance. She still hated clothes shopping even though she often went with Sweetie. She walked around the plaza to a piercing and tattoo parlor. She wasn’t age enough to… oh wait. The court battle over the summer left her as her own adult, so she could get a tattoo without a parent being there. Really Prism was covered in tattoos, but she didn’t want to bother her with asking. Fourty-five minutes later she had a belly-ring, two studs in each ear and a small set of wings on her shoulder blades. She wasn’t quite sure where that idea came from but she liked it. The wings weren’t much bigger than her shoulder’s. For one, she saw whole back tattoos with wings and thought that would be too far and take too much time. She also thought about it symbolically. Except that made her brain hurt so she just decided she liked them and left it at that.


Scootaloo had a great time at the skate park. Her bloody knees told her so, though she did resolve to get some knee pads that fit. She hadn’t worn her’s in so long she didn’t realize she outgrew them. Normally she cruised and it wasn’t a big deal, but trying to do tricks and flips they were a necessity. 
She was cooling off next to the vending machines, sipping a soda when she noticed a boy walking over. His face was on fire and he stared at his shoes. Scootaloo could guess what would happen next. 
“Hi…” the boy said weakly. “I’m Mark.”
“Scootaloo.” Now that he was closer, she recognized him as a new Freshman.
“Those were some pretty sweet moves.”
“Yeah, and an even better wipe out. It’s been too long.”
“Well, um. I think you’re really cool and I was wondering if you wanted to go get some shakes or something?” That was what Scootaloo was waiting for. It did feel nice to be admired by someone other than her childhood friends and former skirt. But she knew better than to string this poor kid along.
“I’ll be honest, my girlfriends might get jealous. Yes, I have more than one, wanna fight about it?” Scootaloo fell into a boxing form. She probably had the weight advantage on Mark. Then she realized that was no longer the way she dealt with her problems. That, and Mark was covering his torso with his arms, shaking from a different form of nervousness he had before. She lowered her fists. “Sorry… Skaters aren’t exactly known for being… tolerant. Or boys in general. I’ve turned down quite a few and they’ve said some nasty stuff.”
“I know.” Mark suddenly became aware of something. “Wait, you’re a girl?” He doubled over and started laughing hysterically. “Oh… My God. This is so embarrassing. The only gay guy at the park meets the lesbian! Or are you trans? That’s cool if you are.”
“I have no idea. I know I like girls and am one… even if I look like a man.”
“Well, so much for that plan.” Mark turned around and started walking, giggling to himself.
“Wait!” Mark turned again, “I practically owe you a drink now. Let’s go to Sugarcube Corner.”
“Race ya!” Mark dropped his board and took off. “Hey, wait, that’s not fair!”

“I can’t believe you beat me!” Mark said, huffing at the door of the bakery.
“It’s called a longboard. It goes faster.” Scootaloo smirked. Scootaloo opened the door with one hand. 
“Oh, no, genderfluid ladies first.”
Scootaloo shot him a glare and he smiled nervously as he walked in.
“Hi Scoots! Who's your friend?” Pinkie squealed. “No wait, let me guess.” She eyed the boy with cold intensity, inches from his face. “Mark Shot, birthday… tomorrow. Come back and you get a free slice of cake! You like chocolate don’t you… wait. German. Yes.” 
Mark was standing there, dumbstruck, trying to figure out what happened. “How… does she do that?”
“Don’t ask questions, you’ll last longer.”
They took a seat and Pinkie hopped by with two shakes. “I had a feeling you’d be stopping by with a person who liked chocolate malts but I couldn’t think of anybody. But I was right so I guess it doesn’t matter.”
They gave their thanks while trying not to look confused. Pinkie moved on to another group of customers. “So, you thought I was a guy?”
“Yeah, but kinda feminine.” 
“I’ve been thinking about it recently. I am kind of a boy. I wear boxers for goodness sake.” The comment set Mark to blushing. “Oh here I am telling you about everything and we just met.”
“Well, I might be able to help anyway.”
“I’d like someone to give me an answer, but I know it’s not that easy. I don’t think anything about my body is wrong…”
“But you feel like you don’t fit in as a girl?”
“Even my tomboy girlfriend is more of a girl than me. Shaves her legs, long hair, wears skirts… more than once a year. Make up, everything.”
“You could just be transgender. You don’t have to get the full replacement.”
“So I just act like a boy to everyone else, but keep the parts I like?”
“Well that’s basically how I understand it.”
“I see. Hey, I just remembered. Why don’t you give me your number so I can pass it on to a friend of mine?”
“Is he cute?”
Scootaloo shrugged. “I’m not qualified to make that assessment. I guess so. I wouldn’t call him ugly. He’s really nice.”
        “Well alright.” Mark scribbled his number on a napkin. 

        Looking back and thinking about it, Button and Mark would be a terrible match. They both seemed pretty timid, but would eventually break out of their shell if given the right… stimulus, so to speak. So perhaps it was time to play matchmaker again. At least help the relationship get off the ground, even if it would crash later. This was high school after all. A relationship like Scootaloo’s, lasting more than a year was practically unheard of. 
        Rainbow was the first person to see her after her slight transformation. She stopped and stared, placing a finger on her chin, tapping it lightly. 
        Finally she said. “You look like you.”
        “What does that even mean??” Scootaloo didn’t mean to shout her question, but she was getting tired of this philosophical bullshit. 
        “It suits your personality. Does it make you happy?”
        “Well yeah that’s why I did it.” 
        “Then you’re fine. Can we sit down for a bit? I want to talk, and for once it’s not about my problems.” They sat down at the kitchen island. “OK first I want to say I’m sorry. I went in your room because I needed my toolkit again, and you left your computer on. I didn’t even have to read the article because the headline was huge and said ‘How to know if you’re Transexual.’ I… just wanted to ask you if you’re OK. And of course we’re still with you no matter what.”
        Scootaloo grit her teeth. “You went into my room?”
        “I’m sorry, OK. I… Yes, it’s my fault, I violated your trust. Sorry.” Rainbow stared at the kitchen counter. 
        “I’ll let it slide, just… please try to respect my boundaries. I know we’re sisters but… I like my privacy. It’s not something I had until I moved in with you.”
        “I understand. I’m sorry.”
        “OK. As for the second part, I don’t think I’m transsexual. Nothing feels wrong about… my lady bits. But I’m more of a boy than some boys I know.”
        “There’s always transgender. Or secret option D, gender neutral. If you want to be called a boy or even start hormone replacement, well, I always wanted a brother anyway. Just do what makes you happy.” Rainbow paused. “Not that there’s anything wrong with having you as a sister.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Scootaloo fake-sneered. “You’re a pretty good sister. Sometimes.”
“Most of the time?”
“Mostly.”
“I’ll take what I can get.”


Scootaloo seemed most suicidal in the early morning on a monday. She looked at the people, living in their own emptiness… but at least they were happy. Envy and hate swirled in her mind until she finished her Soarin’ energy drink, and she felt like a normal human again. The day was uneventful otherwise. Scootaloo passed Mark’s number on to Button at lunch. “What’s this?” he asked. 
“His name is Mark, I met him at the skate park. I don’t know, he seems like your type.”
“How do you even know what my type is?” Button asked, arms folded.
“Because I pay attention. You’ve been dating skinny guys with an obsession for torn jeans and at least two different colors of hair. Statistically I think blue eyes are preferred but it’s not like I’ve been writing it down. He seems well-muscled enough and likes to wear a leather jacket.”
Button relaxed. “OK, point taken. I’ll call him.”
“Besides, you act like you're desperate for that boy-pussy.” Rumble punched his friend lightly in the shoulder. “Beggars, choosers, blah blah blah. 
“I’m not that desperate.” 
“Suuuuuure” Rumble said.
“Like you’ve been sexually frustrated at all since last semester.”
“I’m a teenager. I’m always sexually frustrated.”