Destiny Dysphoria
I am not a normal colt. I’m not a bad colt, I hope. I’m just not a normal colt, I don’t know why. I just feel it, it’s a fact that I can’t find any reason for. I’ve talked to my friends about it and one of them told me no one is normal, and I guess that’s true. But there are certain things in society that are considered normal and acceptable, so there must be an idea of normal. At least that’s what I reason, I’m still not fully convinced in it myself.
Which is good, for some reason I get this tight knot in my stomach if I think about it for too long. If I think about how I’m not normal. It’s not bad, right? Being abnormal, being weird. My friends aren’t normal either, but they’re great fillies. None of us have our cutie marks, and that makes us abnormal. But I can’t help but feel it’s something else, something personal. I’ve talked to my friends about it, but they don’t know how to help. So we go crusading and I take my mind off of it.
Oh, did I mention we have our own group? The Cutie Mark Crusaders. We do lots of different things in an attempt to get our cutie marks. I only became a member recently, and I’ve loved being a part of it since. I’ve been friends with the other three for longer though, they were the first ponies I became friends with since I moved to Ponyville with my family. Actually, they’re the only ponies I’ve become friends with.
They were as surprised as I was that there were other ponies without cutie marks, and we quickly became good friends. It wasn’t till two months after we first met that Scootaloo finally agreed that I could join their club, I was ecstatic. It’s been a month since then, and I’ve loved crusading with them. So now it’s the four of us crusaders. Applebloom, Scootaloo, Sweetie Belle, and me.
Oh, did I not mention my name? Dang it, that was Important. My name Is Star Soar. It’s not a flashy name or one that will stand out, it’s just a name. Two words with four letters each. An even name for an odd pony, ironic isn’t it? I sit here pondering these things absently, because I’m a weird pony that likes to think his life could be some grand story some day. I guess that’s what comes when your mother is a well known novelist.
I haven’t even bothered to get out of bed yet, it’s too early. I can sleep in as long as I want because it’s a weekend, but the second I get up I’ll have to do something. And I honestly don’t want to do anything right now, not yet at least. I know that the crusaders won’t be getting together to crusade today. Really, the only two that are free today is me and Sweetie Belle. Her sister is out for the day, I don’t recall why.
Applebloom and Scootaloo went with Applejack and Rainbow Dash, respectively. They went for a day to Appaloosa and Cloudsdale, they’ll be back early tomorrow morning. I was invited to go to Cloudsdale, but I’m much more content staying here in Ponyville. I’ll head down to Sweetie Belle’s to play, I don’t really want to stick around here. My house is fine, I just don’t want to deal with what’ll happen if I stay home. My dad will insist I come out to help him in the shop, or something similarly trivial.
He insists that I need to spend more time learning a stallions work, but `a stallions work` just happens to be a lot of things that I don’t really like doing. I’m okay at some of the things, I just don’t enjoy it. I will admit that some of the things are important, like weather production. He even taught me to fly, and now I’m almost the best flier in the class! Not that fast, but I can maneuver well. But not that long ago I could hardly glide, much less fly. I feel a great amount of sympathy for my friend Scootaloo, who just can’t seem to get the hang of flying. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to help her. I’m glad that she’s finally getting tutored by the best flyer in Equestria, unfortunately she hasn’t progressed much.
I push the dilemma out of my mind and push myself out of bed. I look around my room idly, wondering if I should take anything. I shouldn’t need any bits for anything, so I just leave them be. I wander downstairs and past my mothers study, I can see her levitating her quill just above her paper in thought. That’s another reason my father taught me to fly, my moms a unicorn. A very talented unicorn whom I love very much, she always had a way with words. A way of calming me down, or changing my mind when I was being unreasonable. She was a very strong-willed mare who I admire, I look up to and love her. She’s my mom after all.
I pass by the work-room and hear a symphony of clanging and grunting as my dad worked inside, probably perfecting his latest project. He was always going about and making things, he was very good with his hooves. He is also very strong and tough from his time in the guard. He’s a macho stallion, and sometimes I fear that I’m not living up to his expectations. He assures me that I’m doing fine, but I’m not so sure. Sometimes I get the feeling he’s not as proud as he claims to be, almost like I’m less than adequate.
I sigh and continue to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast and go out to Sweetie’s house. I just pour a bowl of cereal and a glass of apple juice. I sip the juice contentedly, It’s made from Sweet Apple Acres apples. I finish my breakfast hurriedly and run to my mothers study to tell her where I‘m going.
“Hey mom, I’m gonna go hang with Sweetie Belle,” I tell her from just outside the studio. She sighs at the paper in front of her and looks over to me with a smile.
“That’s fine dear, you have fun,” She says.
“Writers block?” I ask her. She sighs and glances back at the blank paper in front of her.
“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. I just need a little bit of inspiration, I’m sure it’ll come to me” I smile and nod before leaving the study and then the house. I set course for Sweetie Belles house.
I’m looking around at the ponies around me when I notice something strange. All the ponies with friends are the same gender, strangely enough. All the mares hang out with other mares, All the stallions hang out with other stallions. The sole exception to this rule was the occasional couple, but they were usually alone. I think on this, I hang out with fillies, not colts. I could never stand the colts, they were just boring and kind of jerkish. I only have three friends, they’re all fillies. Is that what makes me differ from normal ponies?
No, that can’t be it. It’s just my friends. It must be a coincidence, having friends doesn’t make you not normal. If anything, not having friends makes you not normal. I brush the thoughts aside. Besides, we do the same things as other colts. We play sports, sometimes. I was never good at them, but Scootaloo was pretty good. It just wasn’t the same though, playing it with fillies and colts was different. The colts just weren’t as fun, I never felt like I belonged playing with other colts.
I push the thoughts away as I continue to Sweetie Belles, They’ll just make me all depressed. I want to have fun when I get to Sweetie Belles, not bring down the mood. I ignore everypony else and focus on getting to Sweetie Belles house. I arrive at the front door and knock, Sweetie Belle answers.
“Hey Star! I wasn’t expecting you to come over,” Sweetie greets enthusiastically.
“Yeah, I didn’t have anything to do. Bloom and Scoots are gone, so I was wondering if we could hang out?” I asks tentatively.
“Oh, yeah sure! Just let me take care of some things, then we can do something.” Sweetie motions for me to come in, so I do. Sweetie has a chest open and some fabrics strewn across the room. I look in the chest and find some clothes and more fabric.
“What are you doing with all this fabric?” I ask curiously.
“Oh, that? I’m practicing my sewing, Rarity’s been teaching me to sew properly. I’ve been trying my hoof at various types of clothes,” Sweetie rummages through the pile for a while in search of something. Finally she pulls it out and smiles, “Look! I made this for you!” It’s a nice looking vest, the color matched my golden mane. It was also accented in a bright yellow color a hint lighter than his mane. He put it on over his light gray coat and looks into a mirror.
The vest looked brilliant, it complimented my color scheme perfectly. I'm sure that it looks great, just on somepony else. It just doesn’t feel right, it wasn’t meant for me. Sweetie Belle must have seen this on my face, because she grows nervous.
“Do you not like it? Is it ugly? Do you not like the color? Is it uncomfortable?” Sweetie asks, distraught.
“No, it’s great. The colors are nice and it feels okay, it just… isn’t me. Sorry, it’s nothing against you. It just doesn’t feel right.” I tell her apologetically.
“Oh, well… I have a couple other outfits. You can rummage through that pile and see if anything calls out to you,” Sweetie Belle says.
I look once more into the mirror and see my striking gold eyes and hair along with my light grey coat, complimented by the vest. But when I see that it just seems wrong, despite how right it should look. I take off the vest and look through the pile of clothes, there’s a lot of dresses. One piece of clothing in particular catches my eye and I drag it out. It’s the same gold as the vest, but there’s pink in the design as well. Actually, it’s a magenta color that surprisingly goes well with the pink. There’s a mix of complication and simplicity in the design that makes it eye catching and extravagant. I hold it out.
“That’s a dress,” Sweetie says. “You’re a colt, colts don’t wear dresses.” Sweetie affirms.
“R-right,” I nod sheepishly and set the dress down. I look at it longingly however, then I turn back to the pile. Nothing else catches my fancy, but I do look at the dress again. Sweetie sees my wandering look, and I look away.
“I… I won’t tell anypony if you want to try it on,” Sweetie Belle says in a low voice. I look at her in shock and she smiles at me nervously.
“R-really?” I ask in almost a whisper, Sweetie nods. I pick up the dress enthusiastically and slip it over my body, there’s conveniently holes for the wings. I look into the mirror and gasp, The dress is beautiful. It was the perfect size for me and It felt great. I really looked like a filly wearing it, and that was really shocking. But not a bad type of shock, but a good type of shock. It felt... right, unlike the vest.
“Wow, you look… good, in that.” Sweetie admires her work on the dress.
“T-Thank you,” I say sheepishly, her comment made me really happy. It made me want to try on more. “M-May I try on more?” I ask her nervously. I’m a colt, I shouldn’t like dresses. Yet, it felt so right to be in that dress. She blinks in surprise, but then she smiles.
“Sure, let me pull out the runway!” I look at Sweetie Belle in surprise, she was quick to help me. I smiled and slipped out of the dress, moving to the chest to look at more. I find a couple more dresses and grab them. Sweetie belle sets up Rarity’s runway and a camera, I slip into a dressing room and put on the first dress. When I step out Sweetie Belle has put up the stage and is behind the camera, I look at her nervously.
“Do we have to use a camera?” I ask tentatively.
“I want you to see what you look like too! We can burn the pictures afterwards for all I care, but I want you to see too!” Sweetie says enthusiastically. I step up tentatively onto the stage and strike a pose. *Flash*. I strike a couple more poses and I get more comfortable with the camera. *Flash*. I start to be more confident and my only thoughts are on the posing. I’m caught up in it all as I try on multiple other dresses, all of them beautiful. *Flash*. I look over to Sweetie Belle and smile at her, she smiles back. *Flash*. I look like a filly, and now I’m acting like a filly.*Flash*. I love modeling!
It gives me that escape that I want! I’m so happy, I could model like this for the rest of my life. I look over at Sweetie Belle and the camera in a beautiful pose. *Flash*. I stop in confusion, I had been looking at the camera and it hadn’t flashed. Sweetie’s looking at the camera in confusion, but then she looks at me and gasps.
“Star! Your eyes!” She exclaims. I run back to the dressing room to look in the mirror, my eyes are a bright magenta. I look in confusion at my eyes, eyes don’t just change color. They were clearly a bright gold, not magenta. But here I am, looking at magenta eyes. I slip out of the dress and return to Sweetie Belle, slightly worried.
“My eyes are pink! What happened? What do I do?!” I cry out to her, she’s looking at me worried as well.
“I don’t know! One minute you’re on the stage, posing. The next your eyes are pink! I don’t know ho-” Sweetie stops and her eyes go wide. She’s staring at my flank, I turn around slowly and look. There, on my flank is a cutie mark. It’s a pink circle with a cross and a very loose yellow cloth wrapped around it. My heart soars at the fact that I have my cutie mark, then I realize it. I have my cutie mark.
My heart lurches as This fact sinks in and I have to sit down. That’s what that flash must have been, my cutie mark. I know that circle with a cross, I know what it means. Mother had it on the cover of one of her books, she told me. It’s the symbol for mares and filly’s, the symbol of a female. My talent is modeling, as a filly. This is wrong, I’m a colt. Aren’t I?
“Star! You have your cutie mark! You have your cutie mark! That’s great!” Sweetie’s joy is apparent, then she sees that I’m not nearly as happy. “Star? What’s wrong? You got your mark, aren’t you happy?” Sweetie Belle asks concerned.
“No, I’m a freak… Colts aren’t supposed to wear dresses…” I spit venomously.
“Well, it happened while you were modeling… maybe you don’t have to model dresses.” Sweetie says hopefully. I just shake my head bitterly.
“No, Sweetie. Do you see this sign?” I point a hoof at the symbol inside the spiral cloth.
“Yeah, what does it mean?” Sweetie asks.
“It means female, mare, filly… not a colt…” I blink back tears as I imagine rejection and hatred. Everypony will be disgusted at me, because it’s not natural. I’m not a normal colt, I’m a freak. How am I ever going to live up to my fathers standards if I’m this way? I can feel tears starting to fall and I wipe a hoof across my eyes in a futile attempt to dry them away. What started out as a great day quickly turned to the end of my life. Sweetie Belle is looking at me in concern, not quite sure what to do.
“Star…” Sweetie says softly.
“I’m a freak Sweetie Belle, this cutie mark is proof of that. I liked modeling in those dresses, I liked doing all those things even if I knew that they were wrong. I wanted to continue it, to continue acting like a filly. Maybe I even wanted to be a filly,” I cry openly. Sweetie yanks me up and holds me by the shoulders.
“Star, I want you to listen. You’re no freak, you’re one of my best friends. Me, you, Bloom, and Scoots. We’re all in this together. You should be able to do what you want, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. If it’s what you want, it must be right. A cutie mark is never wrong!” Sweetie says sternly, then she wraps her hooves around me.
“E-Even if I want to be a f-filly?” I ask in shock.
“Even if you want to be a filly.” Sweetie assures me. I smile sadly and hug her back, maybe I am making too big a deal about this. If it’s my destiny, it must be right. No one can deny me my destiny. Maybe everyone else would be as accepting as Sweetie Belle?
“T-Thanks Sweetie Belle,” I sniff and pull away from her hug.
“Anytime, so… do you want to model some more?” Sweetie asks.
“I gotta figure out how I’m going to tell everyone…” I say quietly.
“I can go with you when you tell your parents,” Sweetie offers.
“I… I think that I should do this by myself…” I tell her.
“Ok, I’ll be here if you need anything. Anything at all,” We smile and hug once more before I leave the boutique and head home. I stick to the side streets and try to stay out of people’s way, I manage to get home without much attention at all. A few passing glances from ponies streets down, but no one ever looked long enough to notice anything different. I enter the door quietly and walk slowly through the halls and come to the study.
I look in and see my mother leaning her head back and looking at the ceiling in boredom, more than likely still caught up in her writers block. I sigh as I think on how I’m gonna tell them. I’m about to walk away when my mother speaks.
“Oh, Star, I didn’t see you there.” My mother calls out. I turn with my eyes closed back to the doorway. I open them and my mother gasps. “What’s happened to your eyes? They’re bright pink!” she exclaims in shock.
“It’s magenta, mom.” I shake nervously.
“They were gold, how are they magenta now? Did you get contacts?” She asks in confusion.
“N-No mom, that’s their color now…” I say.
“Why did you change them? I thought your other eyes were nice.” Mother asks curiously.
“I did too. Mom? Do you love me?” I ask, thinking of a way to start explaining.
“Of course! I love you more than anything!” My Mom says in shock.
“Would you love me even if I was a freak?” I ask, my body growing cold. Anxiety wa gripping at me from all sides.
“Well, yes. But you’re not a freak, you’re my son,” My Mom tells me.
“What if I am a freak and not your son?” I ask, fear starting to take hold of my thoughts.
“That’s not possible. You’ll always be my son. Even after you grow up, I’ll still cherish you as my son,” My mom smiles so sweetly, it makes me sick to my stomach. She honestly thinks that, but it’s not really true. I’m hardly her son, much less a colt. I’m more filly than anything, that’s clear to me now.
“I-I g-got my cutie m-mark,” I tell her, my voice quivering as she beams.
“That’s wonderful darling! I’m so proud of you! I knew you’d find what you’re good at! What is it? Let me see.” My Mom is so excited, yet I cower in fear, my back end being hidden just outside the door frame this whole time. Mom sees my fear and takes a step forward. “Star, are you alright?” She asks in concern.
“I-I’m sorry…” I can just tell that she’ll be disappointed in me, she’ll hate me. She’ll disown me, a thousand ways that this can go bad go through my head.
“Sorry for what?” My mom looks at me in concern and slight confusion. Then one more scenario goes through my head, what if it doesn’t go bad? What if she’s accepting and loves me just as much, if not more? This one thought battles the other thousand, it gives me the courage to proceed.
“Mom, I got my cutie mark in modeling,” I answer with a little more conviction.
“Modeling? Oh, that’s different. But, as long as you’re hap-” I cut her off.
“As a filly…” I add in a low voice.
“...What?” My Mom asks, reaching a hoof up to her ear as if to clear it out.
“I’m talented in modeling as a filly,” I repeat, louder. My mother looks at me with her eyes wide, she sits down abruptly on the floor.I move further into the room and sit so she can see my mark. I lower my head and look at the floor, fear gripping me. I’ve said it, now it’s judgement time. After a couple of seconds, I know she must be angry. Tears well in my eyes for a second time that day as anxiety shakes me.
“You… Filly…” My Mom mumbles for a while before she comes out of her stupor enough to ask one question. “How?” I look up with tears in my eyes to see her still looking at me in shock.
“I went over to Sweetie Belles house and she was putting away some clothes that she made. She made me a vest, but it didn’t feel right. She let me look through her other clothes, and I found this one dress. A beautiful yellow and magenta dress! It was gorgeous, and I…” I gulp down a sob as it threatens to fight it’s way out. “I tried it on, it felt… right. She let me try on more and more dresses, and each one felt more and more right. I walked on a runway, I posed, I had fun. I was happy! then… then I got my cutie mark, and my eyes changed colors…” I manage to finish without sobbing, but tears are streaming down my face. As soon as I’m down I sob with my head lowered.
My mom stays quiet for a few minutes, but then I feel a hoof on my back. “Sh…” She soothes, she strokes my back and I stop my sobbing and look up at her. She has an indecisive look on her face, like she doesn’t know what to think. But she knows that I’m sad, and she doesn’t want me to be sad. I wrap my hooves around her and she continues to stroke my back, still trying to stop my sobbing. I stop sobbing and wipe my tears, I pull back a little and look up at her. She’s looking down at me with concern, I look away.
“Do you hate me?” I ask, sniffing a little.
“No, I’m just… confused. I don’t understand yet, not completely.” My mother lifts my chin and looks me in the eyes with the most caring look. “But I’d like to,” My Mother smiles and I perk up a little as well, she pulls me close to her once more and we stay there for quite some time. Then we pull apart and I have a bit more of a smile, this went so much better than it could have.
“Have you told your father?” Mom asks, I shake my head solemnly.
“Why don’t you go tell him, I’ll get started on dinner,” I nod and exit the study. I enter the work room and walk up to my father. He’s engulfed in his work, so I tap him on the shoulder. He looks down at me and moves away from the work station.
“What in Celestia’s name happened to your eyes?!” He asks in exclamation.
“They changed when I got my cutie mark…” I say lowly. I’m still a little afraid, but not as much as before.
“You got your cutie mark? That’s great! What is it?” He asks cheerfully, a wide grin across his face. I straighten up a little, He’s happy for me. He’s proud, I don’t know why I was scared to tell them. Everything’s going great!
“Modeling, as a filly,” I say, I await his reaction with a hopeful face. He looks shocked, just like mom. Of course he’s going to react like mom, it’s new to both of them. I’m waiting calmly when I feel the hoof hit the side of my face, I don’t know how to react. I hit the floor and look up at my father, he’s angry. He’s more than angry, he’s furious. Looks like I counted my blessings too early. A term my mom taught me once comes to mind, Marephy’s law. Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Things just went wrong.
“Get out of here! I don’t know who you are!” He yells, I cower as the side of my head throbs.
“B-But I’m your son,” I whimper.
“I have a son, not a freak,” He replies bitterly. Another hoof catches the same side of my face as the first and I yelp in pain. I look at him fearfully, his eye’s are sharp as daggers and his grimace deep. He raises another hoof, but I turn and gallop away. Away from the hate, away from him. I dash through the halls and to the front door. I dash past the kitchen and hear my mother call out for me in surprise, but I don’t stop. I continue to run, and heads turn to look at the colt running through the streets.
I take to the sky and fly over houses until my muscles scream at me to stop, I slow and land. I look around, I’m far from home. I got what I needed, escape. What now? My thoughts drift to Sweetie Belle, she’ll be able to help me. I walk slowly in the direction of Carousel Boutique, the side of my head is starting to really hurt. I arrive and knock on the door. Sweetie Belle gasps as the door opens.
“Star?! What happened to your head?!” Sweetie exclaims, looking at the spot Star’s father had pummeled.
“I don’t want to talk about it…” I look away. “Can… Can I stay the night, Sweetie?” Her eyes go wide at that.
“Stay the night? You don’t mean…” I just solemnly nod in answer. Sweetie looks in two minds about it, but she nods. “Come on in,” She ushers me in and I walk in thankfully.
“Thanks…” I whisper my thanks and move to the couch.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Sweetie asks, I just shrug. I don’t feel that sad anymore, just empty. If my parents don’t accept me, then what point is there? Though that’s not entirely true, Mom was trying to understand, trying to accept me. It was only my father that wasn’t accepting, he confirmed all my fears. I am a freak, and others think so too.
“What happened?” Sweetie Belle asks softly.
“I told Mom, she seemed confused but willing to accept me… My Dad, he called me a freak and socked me in the head twice… have I mentioned how strong and coordinated he is? Well, he is, and it hurts… He ran me out of the house, I’m not welcome there anymore,” I deadpan, Sweetie Belle is looking at me shocked.
“That’s terrible! I’m so sorry… I should’ve been there-” I cut Sweetie off.
“Why, so he could hit you too? Face it Sweetie, I deserved it. I’m a disappointment…” I hang my head, Sweetie looks completely crestfallen. She moves over to me and wraps a hoof around me, to comfort me. I don’t move, I just sit and stare at the couch cushion. Hoping I can just fade into the background, disappear forever.
“Star, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need to. Why don’t you take my bed, you look like you need some rest,” Sweetie suggests, I nod slowly.
“Thank you so much Sweetie Belle, you’re the best,” I hug her tightly.
“Hey, we crusaders have to look out for eachother,” as Sweetie says that I realize something.
“But… I can’t be a crusader. I have my cutie mark,” I would cry, but I’m plumb out of tears.
“Once a crusader, always a crusader. Even if you’ve got your cutie mark, your still always welcome with us,” Sweetie assures, I smile a little at the sentiment and sidle up the stairs to Sweeties room. I lay down on her bed and curl up into a ball. Sleep is gracious and comes quickly.
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Time out! The picture is a guy?!
Yep, the point was to make him have feminine kind of features already. a kind of gender ambiguous colt. he was delt a favourable hand by fate.
You wrote in third person for a moment there. Just thought you should know
4773151
Really? Where?
4773297 here
The vest looked brilliant, it complimented his color scheme perfectly. He was sure that it looked great, just on somepony else. It just didn’t feel right, it wasn’t meant for him. Sweetie Belle must have seen this on his face, because she grew nervous.
This is very well written, I can't wait for more. The subject of transitions for a pony is a very difficult subject to write, and to see it playing out well so far is impressive. You have a thumb, a sub and a fav from me ;p
I hope to see more story's around such controversial subjects from you in the future
Great story I love it
This is ABSOLUTELY AMAZING and I joined this website specifically to comment on this because it's so good.
I'm up to chapter three and it's just... SO GOOD!
Star's dad is such a douchebag...Let him feel the rage of cross-dressers across the world.
You erroneously changed from first-person perspective to third-person, and back again. What you want is something like:
To early for me to say if I like the story or not, but one technical thing that grated on me in this chapter: unless you're talking about the place where Sweetie stores her robotic doubles, every instance of "Sweetie Belles" should instead be "Sweetie Belle's". Punctuation is important!
I love the fact that you used the word deadpan here, in such a sad scene.
He's going to try on a dress instead, and it won't feel wrong...
It'd be nice if we could, but that reaction right there is why we don't.