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// Chocolate Milk, Fabric and Gender 
// Story: Swirl Cake 
// by The Local Rat Queen 
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Swirl Cake


“Are you sure about this Pumpkin?” I said it with trepidation in my voice. It was the morning after I told my twin my secret. She took it way better than I could have ever imagined. Pumpkin accepted me as a sister, but in truth, I still had no idea what that really meant. We decided to wait to tell Mom. To be honest, I was deathly scared to tell her. Pumpkin said she had an idea, though; all I needed to do was trust her. I want to trust her; she is my twin; we are sisters after all. However, I was shaking a little bit.

“Hey Po-Swi-Bro- you, I just thought of something.” Pumpkin said she chose her words carefully, a thing she only did to me as usually her blunt nature was her default. “How should I refer to you in public?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but then shut it again. I had no clue how to answer that. I wanted to be called Swirl, but how would people see that? Would they ask questions? Would they figure it out? Would they tell mom? I felt my body heat up with stress, and my hooves tingled slightly. I am so screwed! How can I hide this and be happy at the same time? Maybe I didn’t need to be happy. Maybe I can just be Pound Cake forever.

“P- Swirl look at me;  we are alone in our bedroom, just breathing; remember how to do that? Let’s take it step by step; no talking, just straight to our destination, okay?” Pumpkin said, and it grounded me; she always did. I took some breaths and sighed, nodding to her, and she continued, “Unfortunately, our plan may involve telling someone I know 100% we can trust. So please trust me, Swirl.”

My body wanted to panic, but I looked at her and took a deep breath. I looked Pumpkin in the eyes and nodded my head, saying, “I trust you.”





The regrets set in during the walk. Ponies greeted us in the streets, and I was so scared to respond. I was suddenly hyper-aware of how ponies saw me—a stallion, a male, not a girl. The facial hair was probably not helping. I felt big and lumbering with my wider frame compared to my sister. My hooves felt like machines lumbering and pounding the ground. I tried to ignore it, but it was hard.

Eventually we made our way to our destination, and it filled me with a sinking feeling, like my body would sink through the dirt road. I stared up at the cylindrical, stacked building known as the Carousel Boutique. The building was charming, and one of our friend groups frequented it. The owner, Rarity, was very accommodating for our squad and loved hearing about our escapades and exploits. We all even jokingly call her Aunt Rarity. This made me feel even more dread. I turned to Pumpkin.

“Pumpkin, why are we here?” I whisper yelled at her; the anxiety was shaking my voice.

“Well,” Pumpkin said, sounding proud of her plan, “Rarity is the most feminine pony we know. So if anyone can help you be the, well, you know what you are, but better, does that make sense?” She looked at me with a smirk.

“I have no idea what that meant,” I said, a little dumbfounded. My sister was never the best communicator of her ideas; this was a prime example of her shortcomings.

“Look, S, Trust me. I have a plan. You just need to tell Rarity; she will understand.” My face grew full of shock and horror, but Pumpkin kept calm and explained, “Remember when she did Cozy’s hair? Parts of her backstory are way more unbelievable than you wanting to be a girl.” Pumpkin said, trying to reassure me. She was right; what we knew of Cozy Glow made her backstory sound incomprehensible. So believing and understanding me would not be that hard, right?

I took a deep breath and looked at Pumpkin, nodding my head. We made our way to the door of the boutique, entering with a small chime of the bell. The boutique was large in its interior, with dresses and mirrors all around, the dresses in various stages of completion. I always enjoyed looking through the dresses, and sometimes Rarity or Yona would use me as a test for larger-build clients to make sure they were comfortable and fitting. I always enjoyed this, but others teased me for it.

“Yona see trouble,” the large yak, Yona, said from behind the counter with a laugh. Many shades of fabric lay out over her back and horns. She had been working for Rarity since the cakes were six or so and was a permanent fixture in their hangouts at the boutique. Pumpkin ran up and hugged Yona. Yona had been a good role model to Pumpkin, even to me to a degree, but those two were close.

“Hey Yona, is Rarity in? It’s an emergency.” Pumpkin said, stepping back from Yona. For her part, she looked concerned, looking between us. She probably saw the poorly masked discomfort on my face. Looking me over, then back at Pumpkin, she pointed to the door leading to the residence of the boutique.

“Fancy pony in kitchen, are small ponies okay?” Yona said in her voice that was both rough and filled with concern.

“Never better, Yona. Thank you.” Pumpkin said, grabbing my ear with her magic and dragging me along with her. In the kitchen, we found Rarity pouring a cup of freshly brewed coffee for herself. She saw us out of the side of her vision and turned with a smile.

“Ah, Pound, Pumpkin, darlings, how are you?” Rarity said with delight that she always looked so happy to see our group; it made us feel special that despite the graying in her mane, she was always a relatable pony for us to go to, and her genuine warmness overshadowed the uncomfortability of my old name.

“We are fine, Rarity, but we do need some help with... Well, not a problem but a thing to do with them.” Pumpkin gestured to me as I stammered out gibberish for a second.

“Whatever is it, darling?” Rarity said, turning to face just me and stirring sugar into her coffee.

“Well, um, I just have been talking to Pumpkin, and well, I have this feeling. I, um, want to be a girl.“ I said, looking at the floor. I did not hear a reaction and did not have the confidence to look for one visually.

“Darling, why don’t you explain this more?” Rarity said it in a soft voice. I looked up at her smile and gestured to sit at her table. I gulped and took a seat, and Pumpkin took one next to me. Rarity floated out scones and chocolate milk our friend Dew stored here, then took a seat across from us. I took a breath and a sip of chocolate milk, then built the courage to speak.

“My entire life, I always hated being called a boy; it made me feel like I stubbed my horn every time I heard the name Pound or he or sir or brother. However, when I was lumped in with ‘the girls’ while hanging out with our female friends, it made me feel happy.” I sat looking at Rarity, who followed with her neutral, warm smile. “Two years ago, on our thirteenth birthday, I wished I could be a girl and started coming up with names and mane styles. I even tried to find a gender-changing scroll. I know it’s stupid, but I don’t want to be Pound Cake anymore; I want to be Swirl Cake.” I realized I forgot to take a breath at the end there and inhaled long and slow.

Pumpkin placed a hoof on mine to show support while Rarity took a sip of her coffee. I’ll admit the long sip scared me slightly, but then she spoke, ‘”Darling, there are words for this. I am honestly surprised you didn’t research this, considering your literary literacy.” She said it in such a casual tone. I wanted to do research on this, but I did not think there would be a book about this subject. I thought I was the only one, so nothing would exist.

“Wait, I am not alone?” I asked, the realization hitting me like the Ponyville Passenger Train; even Pumpkin seemed stunned but just as interested.

Rarity laughed like a lady: “Bless you, of course not, darling. The term for the uncomfortability is known as Gender Dysphoria, I am not the most versed in it, so take my information with a grain of salt, but it is the feeling of discomfort when your body does not align with the gender you are at heart and soul,” she said, reaching over to add her hoof to Pumpkin’s on my own. “Everyone is special Swirl Cake; some like you just need time and support to be the most authentic version they can be.”

“Will you help me?” I asked her a bit meekly.

“Of course, darling, anything you need, just say the word. I am Aunty Rarity after all.” She said with a snark, making Pumpkin and I laugh.

“Oh! Maybe you can help her with her hair and beard.” Pumpkin said, shouting a little in excitement.

“Would you want that dear?” Rarity said, looking at me as I looked down at my hooves, a tad embarrassed as I nodded, making Rarity continue, “Wonderful, Pumpkin, why don’t you wait in the lobby and Swirl you meet me in the beauty room?

I was over the moon and jumped up before anyone could say anything. I was going to finally look like a girl. I am grateful Pumpkin pushed me to do this, and over the moon, Rarity would do this. Fears of Mom and my friend faded away as I awaited the makeover.