Joys & Triumphs


Before this new craze of unicorn frappacinos, unicorn cakes, unicorn cookies – I made a term I would often use shortly after I gave birth.



  • A Mother who went through pregnancy and childbirth and bounced right back up. Who is skinny or at least back to the way they were before.
  • A Mom who is able to get dressed properly and actually look pretty – makeup and all.
  • A woman who makes motherhood look so damn easy.
  • A female who (pretty much) has her shit together.

See also: Superhuman, wtf, Areyouforreal, Howdidyoudothat, Amazing, Bosslady

I remember clear as day.  My husband and I would go around and run errands (like buying groceries), go to the mall, take walks/drive around the neighbourhood… and I would often point at some women from inside the car.

“See that lady, she’s a unicorn mom. Look at how amazing she looks. How the fuck did she do that?! Her baby is just a little bit older than ours, how does she look so great”?

“She doesn’t even look like she had a baby!”

Or if you don’t know what I’m talking about, surely you have seen videos of women working out with their children while they are all pregnant and ready to pop. YEA THOSE MOMS. (I actually follow a whole bunch of them on Instagram, those ladies are seriously amazing).

I started spotting them everywhere. Then I started noticing that I had a few “unicorn moms” in my inner circle too. I started getting jealous. I felt angry. Alone. Disconnected. Unattractive. Miserable. 

I was pretty sure that my unicorn mom friends couldn’t possibly know the struggle I go through, so I didn’t bother telling anyone. Who would understand me? Slowly, I started to go into hermit mode…Even more than usual.

I started asking “Why me” in my head all the time, why was I having such a hard time? Eventually it dawned on me that I was the unicorn. It was ME that was different. 

I understand that every person has their own stories and that everyone has their struggles. But despite that, how did everyone seem to look okay? Put their masks on and just go about their day. Why couldn’t I just pick myself up? Maybe my problem is that I just really suck at hiding and concealing things that I just looked like a hot mess. It was getting harder to get out of bed.

All of a sudden this magical unicorn wanted to be like all the other horses. I yearned to reach out and get air. Be happy, be grateful… but it is easier said than done. It. is. so. hard.

I stopped using the term, and over the course of the year I stopped being jealous too.

Slowly, I am learning to love and accept myself again. I’m breaking my horn little by little. But I also realize that because of this time in my life, no matter how “normal” I get to be- I’ll always be some kind of a unicorn. And that’s okay, because that’s what makes me, me.

I want to end this post by letting you know that I googled “unicorn mom” and found some pretty funny pictures. Apparently the definition has existed for quite sometime…It was the complete opposite of what I had made it out to be.  I’ll happily readapt to their version. 


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