THROUGH THE LOOKING-GLASS IN SEARCH OF MY TRUE FACE
by Michæl W. Bard
©2007 Michæl W. Bard

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   I admit I’m still fairly new to furry fandom, though not to furry. For a while now, I’ve been playing and wondering and poking at my ‘personal furry’, my ‘fursona’ (for more information on all this definition madness, follow the links to that ever-useful resource Wikifur). For whatever reason, I’ve always been fascinated by hooves. Why, I have no clue. But then, I’m pretty sure most of the readers here don’t know why their ‘personal furry’ (assuming they have one) fascinates/interests them so. I did read every horse book I could get my hands in on my pre-teen years—even all the conventionally ‘girly’ ones like Black Beauty and Justin Morgan Had a Horse. Eventually I branched out into things like Brighty of the Grand Canyon.
   And then highschool and teenhood came, and I concentrated on science fiction and left horses behind. Though I did play around with mental ideas for digitigrade hoof appliances.
   Years pass (watches them whiz by) and I found the whole furry community. So, dutifully, I figured I’d better have a personal furry. I started with centaur, but that faded due to practical difficulties in surviving as one (personal grooming after washroom comes to mind), not to mention fursuit difficulties. Then came my two-year equine fursona. It was comfortable for a while, and yet…
   I don’t know why I wasn’t happy, though I think I was originally. Maybe I was envious of other things. Large ears, chewing cud (believe it or not). Maybe… I don’t know. So, I started going cervine more often. Strangely, this was not entirely satisfactory; antlers didn’t seem right, but horse ears seemed too small.
   So, I finally decided to switch and state, officially, that my personal fursona had changed to a Sable Antelope (but note that that link leads to Wikipedia). Kinda half horse/half antelope, as it were.
   I felt happy for about 12 hours… and then the panic set in.
   I know a lot about horses—both from research to paint them right for historical armies, and research for writing about them. After that initial 12 hours, it hit me that I knew next to nothing about Sable Antelope. What do they eat? What sounds do they make?
   Panic! I felt embarrassed. I felt uneasy. I felt that I was in the wrong for not knowing what I was. I felt helpless. I felt guilty for choosing a personal furry about which I knew next to nothing.
   It was weird. Very weird. And disturbing.
   Fortunately I have understanding friends, so they helped me get a better understanding, and I have an idea where to search. Sadly, though internet resources for horses are plentiful, internet resources for antelope are nearly non-existent. I feel better, but still unsteady on my hooves.
   Nevertheless… life goes on.
   What’s the point of all this? I’m not sure. Maybe to show that us oldies are just as confused and uncertain as you youngsters. Maybe to show that I’m just learning and feeling my way around furrydom, however confident I may sound. Maybe I just need to prove that the manifesto of this column isn’t a lie and that I am new to this furry thing.
   Maybe to just get it out into the open and see how it sounds.
   Do others have problems with their personal fursona? Am I alone?
   I wish I knew…


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