My reward for going into town when I have to stop at the farm store in what I call “big town” (which it really isn’t, though it’s the largest town in the county) is to buy a couple of Breyer blind bag unicorns. I feel around the bag, trying to make sure I get one of each, though last time I got two of the same, darn it! Someone needs to make a LibraryThing app for Breyer horses, because for the little ones, it’s getting harder to remember which I have. (I hope my new shelf which I hope to have done in time for next week’s blog will help with that.)
Like I have seriously been on a unicorn kick lately. I write about them in Through the Portal Storm, and they showed up at the Pegasus Academy (Winter Unicorn). I’m thinking about where, and how, they can show up next, and in what colors and varieties. A lot of the unicorns in my stories have model horse counterparts, and my goal, after the shelf, is to take hang tags and make sure everyone is marked that way, too.
But seriously, why do I write about unicorns so much? They seem like a kid’s thing, and maybe that’s part of the puzzle.
I’m not going to lie, that gif is a whole mood, and it’s my mood. It is, quite possibly, my favorite gif ever. IT’S SO FLUFFY!!!!!!
Unicorns bring me joy. I guess that’s the short answer to the question in this blog title. Unicorns make me happy, and damn it, I’ve been through a lot, especially within the past ten to fifteen years, that I need every ounce of joy I can find. Which is why I write a lot about unicorns and horses and other talking, often sarcastic, animal companions.
But also, unicorns bring my younger self joy as well. I’m on a quest to reparent myself, armed with the knowledge I have now about psychology and neurodivergent brains and what happens when neurodivergent brains and bodies aren’t supported on a generational level. Reparenting yourself isn’t all sternness and responsibility. For me it’s love, support, understanding, caring, and indulging in those things, like being “horse crazy” that I was often ostracized for as a kid. It’s telling my very bullied younger self that they weren’t the problem. It was the bullies who needed help and had issues. They were simply being themselves and there’s nothing wrong with that.
It’s my hope that others will read my unicorn stories and perhaps feel nurtured and welcomed as well.
