A Unicorn Lovers Logic: Why I Love Unicorns


It may sound strange for a grown woman approaching the age of 30 to admit to a deep love for unicorns but, what the hell, here I am.  My name is Sophie, and I love unicorns.  I have unicorn pillows and unicorn knick knacks scattered all throughout my house, and a lot of drawings and doodles take the shape of the majestic beasts that typically appeal to the 3-9 age group.  I used to get a lot of flack from my family for liking unicorns but in the recent years as they have become more “cool,” I have started to receive gifts and kind gestures that take the form of my favorite one-horned friends.  I have everything from unicorn slippers to toys to candy molds and even some beautiful turquoise jewelry.  Most of my unicorn loving peers have been big fans since they can remember, but for me, it was a gradual more emotional relationship that blossomed at the ripe age of 22.  That’s right, up until then I could have given a rats ass about unicorns and truth be told, there is still an element to that statement that exists today. 

I don’t look at unicorns and think about how beautiful they are.  I don’t see their depictions as great pieces of art, and I don’t know if they are real.  I think aliens are way more possible than the likelihood of unicorns, but I’m also not one to rule out any possibility 100% without cold hard evidence.  I would put my belief ration for unicorns at 95% not existing versus 5% chance they do.  So why do I seemingly obsess so much over these mythological creatures? Because so did my Grandma. 

When I was little, my Granny was my best friend.  She was and is to this day the kindest person I have ever met.  I love her so much and miss her every day.  She is the person who taught me how to cook and fostered my love for animation and drawing and encouraged me to be as creative as possible without ever putting limits on it.  When my mom and dad were signing me up for soccer and insistently suggesting I try out for the cheerleading squad, my Granny was sewing me wizard dresses that matched my favorite wizard hat and matching hats for my stuffed animals.  My Granny got me and saw that I did things my own way because I think she did too.  Even though she came from a time where it was the normal routine of a Jewish woman to marry as quickly as possible and have a gaggle of children, my Granny made a point to establish a career for herself before she settled down.  In fact, I come from a long line of Jewish women who break the rules.  Her mother, my great-grandmother, divorced her crappy husband, something that was strictly taboo for her time, and ended up meeting a non-Jewish man while hitchhiking to work and falling in love with him.  Oh yea, he was married too.  I am not proud of her home wrecker status, but they stayed married until the day she died and loved the dickens out of each other, even if it took the form of fighting.  My great auntie - my Granny’s sister, first met her husband while she was on a date with another man.  In fact, their first experience with one another was her flipping him off as she drove off with another man on the back of his motorcycle.  All of these strong, feisty, no holds barred women are where I came from, and I love each of them more than I can express with words.

So it hurt when my Granny reached a place of dementia when I was in my early 20s and couldn't recognize me any longer.  After my Grandpa passed away, we had to move my grandma to an assisted care situation which was hard for her.  We tried to bring as much as her home with her, but we couldn't take 50 years of living in three bedroom house with her to her new one bedroom condo, so there was a lot donated and taken away.  From the pile, family members were allowed to take small items that were sentimental to them which is where I discovered just how many unicorns my grandma had.  She had needlepoints and personalized library bookplates and figurines out the wazoo.  When I asked my dad and aunt if she always liked unicorns this much, they dismissed it saying she never really did but the evidence sure was damning.  I took some of her unicorn goodies, and from there, the seeds of a cherished icon for my Grandma grew.

Every time I see a unicorn, I think of her and the way she taught me to embrace myself as I am.  I am a geeky woman who is kind of goofy and can say really weird shit.  But that's who I am, and I don’t know how to be anything but myself.  And the more I think about it, the more I see my Grandma and her Mother and Sisters as actual unicorns themselves.  They were women who didn’t do what was expected of them in a time where women didn’t have much of a choice than go with the social norms pressured on them.  They did what they want while being as kind as possible and never took shit from anyone, especially their husbands.  I love unicorns because I am related to at least three.  It looks like my belief rate in these creatures is actually 100%, what do ya know?