Turn me into a unicorn.
A unicorn. My first memories as well as current thinking that comes to mind when I hear the term “unicorn” is my Lisa Frank trapped keeper and the 500 page sticker sheets that made their comeback debut at Target dollar spot a few years back.
What are Unicorns? Everyone has a theory, belief, or thanks to “emojis” we now have an actual visual represention of what they are, look like or should be mentally noted as. Without the risk of being too forward or suggesting my belief is the same as others, I’d like to give my “definition” of a unicorn.
Unicorn (n): 1. a mysterious, and magical creature that has been replicated throughout history’s images, and is often related or referred to in fairytales, and other stories that conclude in “happilier ever after”.
2. (n) a wonderful work of ones imagination. A creature that is mystical and holds a unique beauty that is not duplicated by many. Found on platforms of breathingly scenic land and surrounded by enchanting tranquility.
3. (n) a being often encountered and visible in folklore, and fairytale like settings.
What’s so powerfully devestating about the subject or topic of unicorns is that while we can all mentally envision what one is, in reality, outside of our imagination of wonder that reality is that no one has actually “seen” a unicorn. Across the universe and documented from ancestry are tales and (many photoshopped) images of Big Foot, and the Locness Monster. Reported sighting are excitedly presented in tabloid magazines, and everyone loves the chuckle of a well produced YouTube clip.
Unicorns, simply put are these beautifully delicate but still powerful creatures that never fail to be favored by little girls during bedtime, nor is their exsistance doubted. No one ever questions why a unicorn, something of such beauty has a horn instead of a crown or tiara. The toughness or creation why they possess or came to have a horn is never discussed. It just is. It doesn’t take away from their beauty, it’s just a part of them.
I was never the little girl who grew up dreaming of fairytale weddings, or my Prince Charming. I was a far cry from a tomboy, but we’ll just say my childhood was complicated and I grew up quickly- fast-forwarding past the “childhood dreams filled with lollipops and princesses”. Like so many it wasn’t discussed, or heaven forbid dissected, at least not until I became an adult. It wasn’t a conversation or topic I really wanted to discuss per say, especially as an adult, little did I realize the powerful impact it would have on my life once I reached the point of thinking I had it “all figured out”.
I’ve read countless stories to my children, specifically my daughter where unicorns have been referenced. I honestly paid no mind, as I said in the very beginning I really hadn’t paid no mind to the magical being since my elementary trapper keeper and Target 20 years later (Thank you Lisa Frank, your stuff really was the coolest ever)!
Why a unicorn popped into my head and was the key to my reference during one of my darkest journeys throughout life is beyond me. I suppose, that subconsciously I always longed back for my innocence of childhood that was taken away, so while I was reliving/enduring a traumatic time in my life it made me recall memories or flashbacks of being a little girl.
I’m not sure if I’ll ever turn into a unicorn (metaphorically speaking), but I’m gonna try my really.damn.hard. What makes me want to be a unicorn? Simple. So many people discuss “survivor stories” and triumphs throughout the despair that are ultimately achieved and made by victims of domestic violence, and sexual assault. The portrayal of the “light at the end of the tunnel” of “miracle” or creating a new life seems like a zillion lightyear miles away, much like the homeland of unicorns. We can transform, and we hold the most amazing and beautiful gift within ourselves. The ability to understand and have an unwavering depth of compassion for an issue that is not to be damned in silence anymore, to speak up and lift each other up as we trudge through so many different levels and areas of recovery.
We are already beautiful unicorns, even when we don’t see it.
— Survivor, age 33