It's lonely. Being pulled between two worlds.
I'm not a human being. When I look down, my thighs are built and compact, and they taper into a thin, fragile hock, which connects to my cannon bone, then my fetlock and hoof, pulled taut by almost nothing but ligaments and tendons. I can run faster than any human, and I'm stronger than most. My ears swivel to pick up noise. When I'm stressed, they flatten. When I'm happy, they perk up. My tail keeps me balanced while I run. I brush it in the morning and at night. I can't sit in chairs with a solid back. I can't wear clothes without a tail hole. I can't lay on my back without my tail getting squished. My waist down is all bristly fur. I'm not a horse. I eat at the dinner table at night. When I was a foal, my mom sung me lullabies. I go to school. I love and I hate and I cry. Horses aren't worried about being a heel, but I am. I don't graze on grass, and no one rides my back. I heed nobody. I am not domesticated, nor am I a feral animal. I don't fear predation. I don't have a herd. I don't live in stables and I probably won't die of colic. I make art, I write, and I post on social media. I only have two legs. My hands have five fingers each. My waist up is skin. I am my own distinct shape.
I would describe myself, in this world's terms, and only in a physical matter, as a satyr. It's the closest concept this world has to the anatomy of a "horse girl". I can't find any other satyrs---the horse kind, the original kind as ordained by Greek myth---anywhere. There are many horses. There are many humans. There is little of the inbetween, the mix. Again, it's lonely. Even if I found another satyr, they wouldn't understand. I had my own place in human society as a horse girl. I'm meant to live among humans, despite not quite being them. A human to the left. A horse to the right. A human with a horse's soul. We were a third kind, not a man, not a woman. A minority group with our own struggles. Whether it be tokenization, fetishization, discrimination, idolization. A satyr who is not explicitly a "horse girl" wouldn't know what I'm talking about. And that's ok. But it is lonely. There are many horse girls online. I still cannot relate to them. These horse girls are decidedly less "physically horse" than me. I am a deviation from the canon. If anyone is doing things wrong, it's me. I am sure in the worlds where my fellow girls were more human in anatomy, they still faced similar things as I. But it's not the same, I don't think. In my world, we were ever so slightly more "horse". This came with its own difficulties. It's hard for me to relate to those that hail from a more canon-like world. They don't remember the visits to the farrier, and the resulting community. They don't remember having to buy special, more expensive shorts and pants made specifically for the unguligrade anatomy of a horse girl. They don't remember being made fun of for shedding fur, or making too loud of clops when you walk, as a foal. The list goes on.
In this current body, we are mixed race. A lot of my feelings about not being quite horse or human probably stem from this. We know what it's like to not belong in either group. To look at someone and think that you're so close to being like them, but... you fall short somehow. I'm falling short of being a horse and I'm falling short of being a human, but I don't hate it. I do like being a horse girl. I just wish I saw more experiences like mine, of being a not-quite-human who yearns to be seen as such by the humans you're meant to live amongst. I live on a bizzaro Earth in a bizzaro society that's obviously missing an entire sect of people. It's an oddly specific experience, and I've yet to come across a post about it by another.
I'm here, but I'm missing half of me,
which means I am missing all of me.
titsay
pixelskylines
tangentwithtanner
dailybridgerton
jimmyeatworldofficial
ellievsbear
