Green Onions
They’d insisted on knocking me out again in order to revise my internal fixation. I’d wanted to just have a nerve block so I could watch the operation, but alas.
“Hey there sleepyhead.” Said Applejack.
“I- wha,” I muttered, “G’mornin’”
“Afternoon actually,” Applejack corrected. “Ya woke up after the surgery but then ya fell right back ta sleep. Tha’ doctor says you might not remember that though.”
My breath caught a little.
“I uh-” I winced, “I didn’t say anything weird did I?”
Applejack smiled. “Ya were very sweet.”
“What did I say?” I whined
“Ya said that if ya had ta have a new mom,” Applejack said, “Ya were glad it was me.”
It could have been worse.
“...And then ya tried ta sing a song about it but you couldn’t think of a word that rhymed with apple and ya got real frustrated.” Applejack giggled, “Ya said Ah deserved a song.”
I could feel I was blushing, and I tried to pull up the bedsheet to cover my face.
I couldn’t grip it.
But that means that...
I began to hyperventilate.
I tried to grip the sheet with my left hoof... Ok, that works fine.
I tried with my right, which was poking out the end of a new cast.
Nothing. I couldn’t even feel anything!
I grabbed Applejack with my good hoof. My eyes were open so wide they hurt a little.
“Applejack,” I said urgently, “Applejack, get the nurse right now I can’t feel my hoof.”
Applejack's smile vanished when she saw the urgency and fear in my eyes.
"I'll go get the nurse," she said, gently prying my hoof off of her. "Try ta stay calm, it's gonna be okay."
She hurried out of the room, leaving me alone with my fears. I couldn't believe it was happening again; if I was unable to grip things I was right back where I started and this time it could be permanent!
I tried to take deep breaths, but my heart was pounding and my mind was racing. What if something had gone wrong with the surgery? What if I had nerve damage? I felt a wave of panic wash over me, and I could feel tears starting to form in my eyes.
After what felt like a long time Nurse Redheart rushed into the room, followed closely by Applejack. They both looked concerned as they approached my bed.
"What's going on, honey?" Redheart asked, her voice gentle.
"I can't feel my hoof," I said, my voice trembling.
“On the operated leg?” She asked.
I nodded, “Yeah, and I’ve lost grip in that hoof as well.”
Redheart tested my leg and she had a serious look on her face.
“Green, I know better than to tell you not to worry, but- look at me,” she instructed, “just because you can’t feel it now doesn’t mean it’s permanent. I’m going to page Dr Stone and we’ll figure this out okay?”
I was being stupid, of course. For all I knew this could be normal. Maybe they’d injected my foreleg with a local.
It wasn’t normal. It couldn’t be normal, otherwise Redheart wouldn’t have looked so concerned. Fuck.
Dr Stone took one look at me and ordered a scan. Applejack went with me to the scan, but she had to wait outside. They whisked me back to my room rather than waiting for the results.
“The scan shows that all your nerves and thaumic pathways are intact,” Dr Stone explained, “but when you were injured several of them were stretched or compressed. It’s not something I can correct surgically, the nerves just need time to heal on their own. Once the swelling goes down we’ll have a better idea of how severe the damage is and what level of recovery can be expected.”
“Level of recovery?” I asked, “I’m going to have a permanent deficit?”
Dr. Stone looked at me sympathetically, for the first time breaking his monotone.
"It's too early to say," he said, "but it's possible that you may have some degree of permanent nerve damage. We won't know for sure until your nerves have had a chance to heal and we can assess the extent of the damage. But even if there is some permanent damage, it doesn't mean you won't be able to function normally. We'll work with you to develop strategies for coping with any deficits.”
Dr. Red Cross walked into my room, holding a clipboard and a small stack of papers.
"Good afternoon, Green," he said, his voice cheerful. "How are you feeling today?"
"I'm doing okay," I replied, "My leg still hurts, and my hoof is numb but it's getting better."
"I'm glad to hear that," Dr. Red Cross said. "Listen, I wanted to talk to you about something. I think it's important that we address your emotional well-being as well as your physical recovery."
I looked at him quizzically.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well," Dr. Red Cross said, "I've noticed that you seem to be struggling with some anxiety and emotional distress. It's completely normal to feel overwhelmed and scared when you're dealing with a major injury like this, but I think it would be helpful for you to talk to a professional who can help you process your feelings and develop coping strategies."
I looked down, feeling a sense of shame.
"I'm sorry," I said,"I know I've been a little on edge lately. I didn't mean to be a bother."
Dr. Red Cross shook his head.
"You're not a bother," he said. "It's perfectly understandable to feel the way you do. And that's why I referred you to a psychologist who I think can help you. His name is Dr. Mirror Image, and he's a specialist in emotional trauma and anxiety management. He's had a lot of success in helping patients like you cope with the challenges of recovery."
I looked at Dr. Red Cross, feeling my anxiety spike. "Do I have to?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He placed a gentle hoof on my shoulder. "No, Green, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do," he said. "But I think it would be a good idea to at least meet with him and see how you feel. I know you've had a bad experience with a therapist in the past, but Dr. Mirror Image is different. He's very patient and understanding, and I think you'll feel comfortable talking to him."
I thought about it for a moment. I didn't want to see another therapist, but Dr. Red Cross was right, I had been struggling a lot lately. Maybe it would be good to talk to someone who understood.
"Okay," I said finally, "I'll give it a try."
"I’m glad," Dr. Red Cross said, smiling warmly. "And don't worry, everything you say to Dr. Mirror Image is completely confidential. He's here to help you, not to judge you or criticize you. He’ll have an open mind."
The room looked very similar to my first therapy visit, except there were no toys or mats on the floor. It wasn’t the room that grabbed my attention though, it was its occupant. I hadn’t seen a crystal pony in person before and they were quite striking. Dr Mirror Image had an aquamarine crystal body with angular facets. Somehow I could see almost straight through him. Where were his organs? His mane was a silver color tinged with gray and he had a pair of spectacles that seemed far too small for pony eyes. Perhaps they were just reading glasses.
Applejack nudged me. “It ain’t polite ta stare.” she whispered.
We made our way to the couch and sat down.
“Hello,” said the crystal pony, “My name is Mirror Image.”
“Hi,” I said, “What did they tell you about me?”
“Dr Red Cross tells me you’re a very clever filly who’s going through a very difficult time.”
It was better than the deflection I was expecting, but still frustratingly vague. I stayed silent in the hopes he would elaborate.
“They told me you wanted to talk through some of the feelings you’ve been having.” He continued, “It’s alright if you’ve changed your mind, I can appreciate how much stress you must be under.”
I took a breath, held it, and then exhaled.
“Do you know about what happened yesterday?” I asked, “With Spoiled Rich. I don’t want to tell the whole story again.”
“I know the broad strokes.”
“I feel guilty.” I explained. “I feel like I was manipulating Spoiled, and I don’t know if I should feel bad about that.”
“Guilt is a normal feeling.” Mirror image replied. “The fact that you feel remorse is a good thing to me. Can you tell me more about why you feel manipulative?”
He was validating my feelings, did that mean he did think I had something to feel guilty about? Or was he just - ugh. No way to know yet.
“Spoiled was out of control,” I said, “I could see what I needed to say in order to push her into overreacting, so that she would get into trouble and I said those things not because I meant them, but because I knew they would hurt her.”
“And why did you feel the need to push her?”
“She’s a bully.” I stated. “I could see what she was trying to do to me, and I wanted to make her suffer like she did to other ponies. I wanted to prove I was better than her at her own game.”
“And these other ponies, who are they?”
“Pip, at the school board meeting. When he requested funding to fix the broken playground she refused; she called him a runt.” I growled, “The way she speaks to her own daughter is shocking. The type of pony she is? That’s only the start of it I’m sure.”
“Would you call them your friends?” Asked Mirror, “Pip and Diamond.”
“I don’t know if Pip is a friend yet, but he did ask for my help.” I replied, “Diamond said we were friends herself, and stood up to her mother for me.”
“Did they ask you to do what you did?”
“No.”
“To go that far for another pony, it sure sounds like you care a lot about Pip and Diamond.” Mirror Image said, “Tell me Green, how much of what you did was planned? Did you make those decisions on impulse?”
“I didn’t do it for them.” I grit my teeth, “I did it because I was angry. I had a plan to go through the proper channels but it wasn’t going as fast as I wanted. When I had the opportunity to vent my frustration on somepony who deserved it, I took it.”
“You’re a very smart filly Green. You know what to say to nudge things in the direction you want them to go.” Mirror Image pondered, “It makes me wonder, are you guiding our conversation right now? What do you think I should say to you?”
“You think I’m trying to get you to say it wasn’t my fault? Fishing for validation?” I asked, “Or perhaps I’m presenting a narrative to convince you of my guilt because I feel like I deserve punishment.”
“And what punishment do you think you deserve?”
“I don’t know.”
“If we were in each other’s hooves,” He questioned, “and you were the psychologist and I was the filly, what would you say to me?”
“I would probably ask questions and listen reflectively without making any judgements,” I said, “Like you’re doing.”
“Ah, so I’m glad we’re on the same page and you approve!” He chuckled.
Yeah, but the reason I’d do that is because I don’t know psychology and it would be the easiest way to pretend I knew what I was talking about.
“I guess I answered my own question, didn’t I?” I asked, “You’re not going to judge me.”
“That’s not why I’m here,” He explained, “I’m not a judge or jury. If you’re looking for somepony to tell you if what you did was right or wrong I’m not going to be the one to do it.”
I sighed. “Can you explain why I feel like this? That is your job, right?”
“Can you be more specific?” He asked, “I’m sensing you have a lot of feelings going on and my job is to help you understand yourself. If I told you how to feel, or justified why you feel the way you feel then I would be doing you a disservice.”
“I feel anxious, almost all the time. I don’t like social interactions, but I learned about how they work anyway, because I had to.” I looked down into the cup of water I was holding, “I hate how nopony seems to think about what they’re doing or saying, how they get into pointless conflicts just because they refuse to consider the perspectives of other ponies.”
“Being gifted does come at a price. You can see all these little things and predict how they will happen. You can see every perspective and every consequence all the time,” he said, “And you think that it’s up to you to guide others in the right direction?”
Was he trying to flatter me with that? Did he really think I was so narcissistic?
“No. I’m not omniscient.” I said firmly. “It’s not my job to guide everypony. I just don’t want to do harm.”
“Even if you think they deserve it?”
“Does anypony really deserve harm?” I asked, “If a pony had to be harmed, because it was the only way to protect others, or if being harmed a little now will help them in the long term, then it could be justified, but I’m not sure if anypony deserves to be harmed just for the sake of it.”
“I see.” He noted something down, “And this anxiety is... fear that you’re going to cause harm to somepony, intentionally or not?”
“Sometimes.” I admitted, “Other times it’s just the fear that everypony will hate me and reject me.”
“Because you can see that possible outcome in social interactions?”
“Yes. I can never predict everything.” I said, “Especially if I don’t know them well.”
“You and I are not so different Green.” Mirror Image smiled, “If you were just a little older I might offer you a job as my apprentice. ‘Manipulating’ every social interaction to have the best possible outcome is very emotionally labor intensive. It’s no wonder you’re anxious all the time.”
“I don’t know how to stop.”
“Nopony says you have to stop. It’s about accepting it.” He hesitated, perhaps seeing my expression before adding, “I know that sounds like a platitude.”
“What am I accepting?”
“That you can’t make every interaction have the best outcome, and when something does go wrong that’s just how things happened. Emotions are impulsive and fickle. Anger doesn’t care, sadness doesn’t either, and it’s not wrong to feel those things; and feeling anxious isn’t wrong either. Not wanting to feel anxious is not wrong. Being a pony is... well, just as it sounds.”
“I can’t do it.”
“You can’t be a pony?”
“I can’t just accept it, or be myself, or any of those other things ponies say. The way I interact with ponies when I’m being myself is that I don’t. Because I don’t care. Unless they want to talk about the thing I happen to be interested in at that moment I don’t actually want to talk to them, or acknowledge them.” I looked at the wall behind Mirror and then back to a spot between his eyes, “Making eye contact, showing interest with posture, being aware of their body language and tone of voice seeing through their words to their perspective- there’s a dozen things I need to do to have a successful social interaction and none of them come naturally.”
“As soon as you start interacting with others, you start seeing those potential options and outcomes open up like a floodgate.” He said, “It’s exhausting so you don’t want to do it.”
“The only winning move is not to play.” I said bitterly.
“Green, who are you?” He asked, “Not from my perspective, mind you.”
“I’m not a philosopher.” I deflected.
“I’m sure if you labeled all the things you weren’t we would be here for quite a while.” He countered. “I can also see you’re not a porpoise.”
If felt like I had to force a slight smile at his attempt at humor. I still had no idea where he was going with this.
“The question is too broad.” I replied. “Who am I? You know my name, my address, so I can only assume you’re asking who I am on a more fundamental level. Am I a consciousness? A soul? Do I really exist, or do I just think I do? I don’t know. And I’m not sure what it would mean if I did.”
“Can I give you my perspective?” He asked.
“Of course.”
“I see a green filly in front of me,” He said, “Around the age of nine. Please correct me if I’m wrong.”
“I can’t deny that.”
“Okay, and you’re here today talking to me because you think something isn’t right. Most ponies don’t even get that far. That tells me that you care enough about yourself to talk to somepony like me.” He surmised, “I see a filly struggling with giftedness. You can see possibilities and perspectives, and it’s exhausting.”
“It seems like the harder I try, the worse I feel.” I admitted. “And when I want to give up, ponies keep ‘helping’ me.”
“You don’t want help?”
“I want to give up.”
Mirror Image looked over at the door.
“You can leave at any time. I’m not keeping you here,” He said, “But I have a feeling you won’t, so what’s keeping you here?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s okay if you don’t know. You don’t have to know everything.” Said Mirror, “I heard you tried to talk to a therapist before. How did that go?”
I winced.
“Not well.” I admitted, “I kinda - had an anxiety attack. And then ran away crying.”
“That doesn’t sound like a pleasant experience.” he said, “So from our little talk today, would you say this is going better? I won’t be offended if you say no.”
“So far, so good.” I sighed.
“That’s good to hear.” He smiled, “Do you feel anxious when you don’t know how ponies feel about you?”
“Yes, very.”
“Am I making you anxious?”
What a question.
“I - you've given enough hints that you don't think poorly of me, and given some direct praise. Most of it appeared genuine, though a couple times I thought you may have been probing to see how I would react to undeserved praise. I could be wrong, though. You are well practiced at this type of interaction.”
"I will take that as a compliment.” Said Mirror, “Speaking of, Miss Applejack. You've been quiet. Would you agree that this is going well?
“Well, Ah can say it’s goin’ a mite better than last time,” Applejack replied, “Ah’m not sure how this is suppose ta be helpin’ though. Yer jus’ tellin’ her that it’s alright, but it ain’t. She’s sufferin’.”
“Yes, I can understand that. Green needs everypony around her to be genuine and their motives to be clear. She is gifted and can see when ponies don't mean what they say. You could call it the social facade. She can see right through us. Her anxiety stems from these social interactions.”
I’d put it off for as long as I reasonably could, but I really had to say something while there was an acceptable break in the conversation. We were on a roll and I was afraid that Dr Image would end the session. Stupid child body.
“Can we take a short break?” I asked, “I need to use the restroom.”
“Of course, take as much time as you need,” Dr. Image said kindly, “We’ll be here when you get back.”
I pushed myself off the couch, wincing at the twinge of pain in my leg. Applejack quickly came over to help me, offering me her hoof to steady myself on.
Outside the room was the wheelchair they’d used to transport me from the ward. It was adult sized, so there was no way I could reach the wheels even if my hooves did work. It wasn’t like I couldn’t walk though. I could see the bathroom down the hall, and fortunately it was unisex so I didn’t have to worry about those issues.
“It’s a fair walk,” Applejack said, noting my painfully slow pace, “Ah can push the wheelchair if ya like.”
The long walk down the hallway to the bathroom would be tedious, and very uncomfortable.
“Sure.” I sighed, feeling even more useless.
“Feeling better Green?” Asked Dr Image.
“Yes thank you.” I said.
“It seemed to me like you didn’t want our session to end,” said Dr Image, “Is there a particular topic you wanted to make sure we covered?”
I couldn’t find words. How could I even begin to bring up my past life? I turned away from Dr Image and looked at Applejack.
“Applejack,” I said, “Do you remember what I told you? Before you took me to see the therapist... About where I was from.”
Applejack seemed to freeze for a moment.
“Ah should have listened better.” Applejack pulled me closer, “Ah know how hard it must’a bin ta admit that ‘an... well Ah should’a been more open minded.”
WHAT!? How does she already know that?
I slowed my breathing down.
It’s okay. It’s okay. If she already knows then that just makes this easier.
“Do ya want me ta tell him?” She asked.
“No,” I’d given up making eye contact with anypony, “I’ve got to be honest. Dr Red Cross probably told you I’m not a normal filly, right?”
“Normal is relative.” Mirror responded, “I have spoken to him about you though.”
“What if I told you I wasn’t a filly?” I asked.
“That would certainly open up a lot of questions.” He said, “If you’re not a filly, then what would you be?”
I kept staring at a point on the wall.
“Well, I am a filly now, but I wasn’t always this way.” I said, “ I - I came to Equestria from somewhere else, a society where I was considered an adult.”
“So you’re an adult in the body of a foal?” He asked.
“I guess you could say that.” I could feel my heart vibrating my chest. “It sounds crazy. I don’t have any proof.”
“You don’t need to prove anything to me.” He said gently, “So if you were an adult, what kind of pony were you?”
“I was a nurse.”
“Were you a good nurse?”
“I like to think so.”
“As we all do.” He said, “I suppose the better question would be if you enjoyed being a nurse.”
“It was stressful but fulfilling.”
“Yes, helping professions are good for that.” He said, “Both the stress and the fulfillment.”
I inhaled sharply and tried to keep my voice even.
“I didn’t help Spoiled.” I began, “It’s like - as if I did everything wrong on purpose. I kept attacking her insecurities when I would see she was getting upset. I initiated unwanted physical contact in the hopes she would respond violently. I ended up getting somepony else hurt... It’s like a waking nightmare. I could see that Spoiled couldn’t control herself and I took advantage of her.”
“Even if you are an adult, you are in the body of a filly.” Mirror spoke softly, “Spoiled is an adult, in an adult body. Even if you did antagonize her, it’s not okay for her to do what she did. She chose to react poorly. I’m not saying what you did was good or bad, but you’re not responsible for other ponies' actions.”
That made sense, it was what everypony else had been telling me.
“If I asked you to insult me,” Image asked, “Would you?”
“Is there a reason I should?”
“And that’s reasonable.”
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“Everything we do, in a way, is manipulation.” He explained, “I can ask you to insult me, but you don’t have to do it. You can antagonize Spoiled, but she didn’t have to hurt you. We are constantly suggesting eachother to act in a certain way. As a helping professional, we do this for the benefit of the patient - but if we suspect abuse...”
“When I look at Spoiled I have trouble seeing her as a functional adult. The way she reacted, the way she couldn’t defend herself from my words - she feels like a patient to me. A vulnerable one. It was too easy, and I feel sorry for her.”
“Not as an insult,” I added, “but genuinely I feel bad. If she had an awareness of herself and how she appears there’s no way she would have done the things she did.”
“And that’s the point.” He replied, “I’m sure as a nurse you were a mandatory reporter if you suspect foal abuse, but you’re not a nurse, or an adult right now. The foal being abused - was you.”
“I... yeah.”
“I can’t imagine how I would react if I found myself in the body of a child and I knew that was going on. Trying to convince everyone I was a psychologist and an adult. I would certainly be frustrated.”
“I didn’t even try.” I admitted. “I was too scared. I lied instead.”
“And?”
“And I let everypony believe I was a child, I accepted their help under false pretenses.”
“Because nopony would believe you.”
“I didn’t even try.” I said, “To be honest I’m not even sure if you believe me now.”
“Stranger things have happened.” He shrugged, “How are you adjusting?”
“Should I even be adjusting?” I asked, “My whole life here is based on a lie.”
“I suppose that’s the problem.” He said, “What do you want? Or what do you think you need?”
“I don’t know what I want anymore.” I sighed. “Sometimes I’m not sure if I should be here at all.”
“Well, you have to be somewhere. Why did you leave home?”
My god that was blunt. That could have been a sensitive subject. It wasn’t, for me, but it could have been.
“By accident.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“A stranger offered me a chance to travel to another world.” I explained, “I thought they were joking, so I said yes. It turns out they were not joking.”
“And how did you get here? Why can’t you go home?” He asked, “Assuming you want to.”
“As far as I know, my consciousness was seamlessly transferred, or copied, into this body. I didn’t wake up, wasn’t transported, I was just suddenly here. Which means this isn’t my original brain, I’m not the original me. I just have the memories.”
“Where did you come from?”
“A place called Earth.”
“I can’t say I’ve heard of it.” He said, “Do you think you would still have the same mind if you had a different brain?”
“That’s a difficult question.”
“Let’s say you were the ‘Original’,” he asked, “What does that mean for you?”
“It means I have a bunch of unexplained memories in my head from a past life this brain couldn’t possibly have experienced.”
“Okay,” He replied, “And what does it mean if you’re a ‘Copy’?”
“It means I have an explanation for the memories in my head.” I shrugged, “I’m not ‘fake’ if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“No, no,” He placated, “I’m just wondering if that would change your needs.”
I shrugged. “I am what I am.”
“Do you want to go home?”
“With the way I got here, I don’t think that’s possible.” I said, “And if it were... I guess I would have to.”
“You would have to?”
“I had a family.” I explained, “No children, thankfully, but parents, and siblings. I can’t abandon them to go live in another world. I can’t let them think I’m dead or missing.”
“Ah yes, I can see how that would be distressing.” He replied, “But I’m getting the sense that you may have some resentment over your obligation to go home, if you were able. Am I missing the mark?”
My breath suddenly felt sharp.
“No I-” I looked at my hooves, “I don’t think resentment is the right word. I feel... I don’t know.”
“Imagine there’s a portal that will take you home, right behind that door.” He instructed, “Imagine you’re walking towards it, or you can actually walk if that helps. What emotions do you feel?”
“I feel torn. I know I have to go back but-” I hesitated, “I- feel like I’m giving up on a life that I’ll never get back, like if I step through I may never be happy again. I don’t want to be melodramatic about it, but it feels like suicide.”
“Those are some powerful emotions.” Mirror said, “I can see why you would want to avoid thinking about it. I wonder though, if that’s part of the reason why the idea of telling ponies about where you’re from generates so much anxiety.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, imagine if I told you right now that you couldn’t go back,” He asked, “That it was completely impossible. What emotions does that bring up for you?”
“I feel... relieved.” I said, “But I also feel guilt and... grief. I’ve lost everything from my old life; My family, my friends, the life I managed to build it’s all gone forever. My family would be devastated because for all intents and purposes I’d be dead.”
“I think you feel such anxiety over telling ponies where you’re from because you know on some level that if you did you might get an answer one way or the other about whether you could go home.” He explained, “And then you would be forced to confront one side of the terrible dichotomy you’ve described.”
“What if I don’t tell them?” I asked, “What if I just try to forget my past life and start a new one here? Would that work? Could that work?”
“That is an option,” He said, “But it sounds like keeping this secret is causing you distress.”
“It is.” I admitted.
“Keeping this in limbo,” He said, “Not finding out if you’re truly ‘stuck’ here; You can’t properly grieve for a life you feel like you may be forced back into at any moment. And you can’t commit to a life here when you fear it may be temporary.”
“But the alternative is... It’s not just about finding out if I can go home, I have no idea what could happen. It scares me.” I said, “Everything would change, and I could never take it back.”
“What do you think it would change?”
“I don’t know! Everything!” I said, “Everypony is so understanding when I get anxious or when I can’t do things for myself or I don’t know things. If they knew I was actually an adult they- I’d just be broken and useless. I know they probably wouldn’t but I just feel like everypony would hate me.”
“Did ponies accept you when you were an adult in the other world?” He asked.
“They didn’t have to,” I explained, “In my past life I was capable and independent. I helped others, I didn’t need them to help me. When I interacted with them, I could show them what I wanted them to see, and then I could go home.”
“I’m getting the sense that it was important for you to be in control,” He said, “Relying on other ponies, trusting them with your true feelings makes you feel vulnerable. Am I on the right track?”
“I guess...”
“What is it that you wanted other ponies to see?”
“I wanted them to see that I was calm, and reliable, that I cared about them and was interested in the same kinds of things they were.” I said, “Actually I was anxious and didn’t really want to interact with them.”
“It can be really hard to go through life constantly hiding your insecurities. What do you think would have happened if you did let someone see this side of your personality? Did you feel like you'd be rejected or mocked if you were to show your weaknesses?”
“I felt like if I showed weakness people wouldn't want to be around me,” I said, “Or that, yeah, I would be rejected and mocked.”
“So now you’re feeling like being seen as a child is the only thing protecting you from this fate.” He said, “I can see how that would make it difficult for you to talk about this.”
“Yes, that’s exactly it,” I said, feeling a sense of relief that he’d put into words what I was feeling, “It’s like being seen as a child gives me permission to not have my shit together emotionally, to be ignorant, to make mistakes.”
“The thing is,” Mirror continued, “Hiding behind this persona of a child might be keeping you safe in some ways, but it’s also preventing you from forming truly deep and meaningful connections with the ponies here.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, if you’re always pretending to be something you’re not, then the relationships you form will never be based on the real you,” Mirror explained. “And while it might be easier in the short term to keep up the act, in the long term it will only lead to more isolation and loneliness.”
“But what if I can’t be myself?” I asked, “What if the real me is just too broken?”
“Feeling vulnerable is always scary,” Mirror said, “But it’s also a necessary part of being a pony. We all have our weaknesses and flaws, and learning to accept them and share them with others can actually make us stronger.”
“I know, but...” I trailed off, feeling overwhelmed.
“It’s not an easy thing to do,” Mirror said, “But with practice, it gets easier. And it’s worth it.”
“I do want to feel like I belong here,” I said, “I just don’t know how to face this.”
“It’s never too late to start being honest,” Mirror said, “And you don’t have to do it all at once. It can start with small steps, like telling one pony about your past, or even just one truthful thing about yourself that nopony knows.”
“Sweetpea,” Applejack said, “No matter what happens, you’ll still be my little girl and nothing’s gonna change that. Ah’ll always be here for ya, when ya need me, even if yer actually a grown mare. Ah can’t promise Ah understand everythin’ that’s goin’ on with ya, but Ah’ll try.”
I took a breath, and let it out slowly. I almost started to say something, but my throat seized up and I had to take another breath.
Why was this so hard? Compared to being a different species this should be nothing.
“Applejack,” I squeezed my eyes shut, “I’m not actually a girl.”
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I asked
11511694
Fixed, thanks.
Being human --> being a pony
Awesome chapter, haven't seen a conversation this interesting and well thought out since... well, I can't remember. Well done, it was riveting :)
11511710
Oops. Fixed.
Great chapter, Green's really coming out of her shell here.
Oh hi Luna!
11511714
Oh, was not intentional. I thought there was some shenanigans afoot
Time for mindbreak
Why did mirror say "it's part of what makes us human"? Was that intentional and no one caught it? Or just a slip up from you, the author?
(Oh, see, I saw the 'human' bit to and thought it might be hinting at something hidden! But no, okay, that makes more sense!
And now Green is getting good psychological help. Also, saying a LOT in front of Applejack, so that's nice! Bringing the walls down. Vulnerability is hard for a reason though... fortunately, Applejack's one of the good ones.)
11511724
It was a slipup. Refresh the page and it should be fixed.
“Feeling vulnerable is always scary,” Mirror said, “But it’s also a necessary part of being human. We all have our weaknesses and flaws, and learning to accept them and share them with others can actually make us stronger.”
Mirror shouldn't know the word "human" here, should he? Regardless, great chapter. Now I'm REALLY psyched for the next one
Wait, is the chapter title an "Onions have layers" joke? Because I think I just got that.
(Oh, and nobody actually refreshes and checks the comments before they leave theirs, it'll be a bit before you stop getting that notice.)
This chapter is a major breakthrough for Green, finally laying down her emotions. It's great to see and I guess the next chapter will continue on this way.
Great chapter
11511730
The Green Onions joke has many layers.
1. Green has layers, onions have layers
2. Onions make people cry
3. In some cultures, green onions are a symbol of new beginnings and renewal/rebirth
4. In some cultures, green onions are a symbol of longevity and health
11511710
literally reading minds!
Good chapter I like this new psychologist, he certainly is pointing Green in the right direction
After like 2 years poor Green is FINALLY getting some catharsis, woo!
This seems like a big turning point. I hope it gets better from here.
I glad greenie is getting help. I'm guessing between the dad who didn't like mom having similar issues and their pride he she never got help.
Now that is interesting. I don't think even a gifted 9 year old could come up with the fiction that is Green's reality. Mirror is in an odd place here.
Bloody fine chapter, brilliant content and character development! I loved this chapter a lot.
👍
Thanks for this highly entertaining and deep philosophical chapter
11511734
Reminds me of Shrek. Ogres are like onions... (starts at 27 seconds)
I'm not sure if this is on purpose or just a typo, but either way this is very true. Being human is hard and not fun most of the time.
local anesthetic
Great chapter.
11511776
Yes she means a local anaesthetic
Oh, one other thought -- the loss of hoof grip in the affected limb could be in whole or part psychological. Green trying to punish himself.
Fucking stellar chapter. It was so well written and the dialogue works so well. Really helped me get into their head. I'm even more excited for the story to continue.
Woah! Looking forward to seeing Applejack’s reaction to that revelation.
funni momento
Well, I'm extremely interested on how AJ or Green tell the others that she isn't actually a pony... Or a filly. Especially to Twi, that'd be interesting to see what she does with this information.
“Making eye contact, showing interest with posture, being aware of their body language and tone of voice seeing through their words to their perspective- there’s a dozen things I need to do to have a successful social interaction and none of them come naturally.”
fuck me that hit a little too close to home
Great Chapter!
wow dis got deep, the chapter was really captivating
he how will applejack react to that last line
11511776
A 'Local' is medical shorthand for Local Anesthetic.
11511825
Learn something new every day.
11511805
Me too. Not sure about you, but I'm autistic. Not only that but I'm an autistic adult who was sheltered as a child and never had to learn how to deal with people growing up because my family's entire house was a designated safe space.
Well I didn’t see any poorly written parts so I say this chapter was a resounding success! I couldn’t tell someone else helped you write the dialogue and you should be proud of this chapter.
I hope you're having a nice day.
So does this mean Green is trans?
I guess it would make sense. Green has the mind of a male in a female's body.
DUN DUN DUUUUN
Green's a fractal of surprises for these ponies lol. But this was a very interesting dive into the character's mindset! This is probably going to be an inflection point for her healing - acceptance is key.
Maybe once she asks Twi for an answer, Twi can remind her that the trip wouldn't necessarily have to be one-way
Wow. Now that's a chapter that hits you like a truck.
Outstanding work. A major turning point for this story, no about about it.
Looking forward to the ramifications of this.
Wow, that's a heck of a bombshell to drop on AJ at the end there.
Atleast Green is trying to follow the Doc's advice.
This got deep fast.
11511917
Being trans is a matter of gender orientation, not biological sex. Green would not be trans because its not a matter of their gender identity not matching the sex of the body they were born in, their gender identity has not changed.
>necessary part of being human
huh
11511942 All those other HiE isekais who had this exact same thing happen to them suddenly show up! "Welcome to the Gender Identity Reversed Lifeforms Society!!"
Green looks flatly, "G.I.R.L.S.... did you really have to?"
The leader shrugs, "Well, it was either that of the Get Rid Of Slimy girlS club, but Calvin had that name trademarked."
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