In a place far, far away — or maybe not so far if your imagination is big enough — lived a unicorn named Ulysses. Ulysses wasn’t just any unicorn, at least not by normal unicorn standards. Sure, he had a shiny horn and a sparkling rainbow mane, but there was something about him that made him… different. Ulysses didn’t like being special.
Ever since he was born, his parents, uncles, friends, neighbors, and even some fish kept telling him, "Ulysses, you’re amazing! You can do magic just by thinking about it. Why not make a mountain of strawberry ice cream with chocolate sprinkles? That would be so much fun!" And Ulysses would do it. At first, he enjoyed the smiles that came with just a little wave of his horn. But over time, he began to wonder if those smiles were for him or for what he could do.
Some days, he just wanted to be normal, as normal as... well, as a ham sandwich. Nobody paid attention to a ham sandwich. No one threw parties in its honor or asked it to do magic tricks every time it showed up on the table. A ham sandwich just was.
“I’m tired of being special,” Ulysses thought on a sunny day as he floated a few inches above the ground, like all unicorns do when they’re bored. “I want to be a normal unicorn! No magic, no sparkle, no attention.”
And so, Ulysses decided that from that day on, he would be the most normal unicorn in the world. But there was a problem.
Being a "normal" unicorn was harder than it seemed.
The first step in his transformation was getting rid of his magic. "No sparkles, no surprise rainbows, and, most importantly, no floating!" he said out loud while walking through the meadow. He stopped by a small puddle, looked at his reflection, and firmly said, “Horn, stop glowing.”
His horn, known for its stubbornness, blinked once and then shone even brighter.
"Oh, for the love of flying cookies!" Ulysses grumbled, but he didn’t give up. If he wanted to be normal, he had to find a solution.
He decided to visit his friend Flora, a cow who, fortunately, was the most normal creature he knew. Flora spent her days grazing, napping under trees, and occasionally saying “moo.” Her level of excitement each day was about the same as watching grass grow, and to Ulysses, that seemed absolutely fantastic.
“Flora, how can I be normal?” asked Ulysses, chewing on a flower he accidentally made grow with a sigh.
Flora looked at him with eyes full of empty wisdom. “Being normal isn’t hard,” said the cow, chewing her cud. “Just... do nothing.”
Ulysses frowned. “Nothing? How do you do that?”
“Like this,” Flora said and stood completely still.
Ulysses watched her for five long minutes, but soon he noticed that little birds had started using his mane as a playground. One was swinging on his tail, and another had begun a small card game on top of his horn.
“This doesn’t seem to be working,” commented Ulysses, trying unsuccessfully to make his horn stop glowing so much.
Flora, unfazed, said, “Try not thinking of anything special.”
And that’s where everything went wrong.
When someone tells you not to think of something special, the first thing that happens is that your mind fills with strange things. Like an elephant on ice skates, or a chocolate cake wearing sunglasses playing the saxophone.
Ulysses tried as hard as he could, but the more he tried not to think of magical things, the more absurd the images that popped into his head. In less than a minute, he had accidentally made a group of sheep in tutus dancing on a cloud appear.
“This is a disaster!” cried Ulysses, as the sheep happily danced to a slightly off-tune version of Swan Lake. “Being normal is much harder than I thought.”
The sheep, who were now on the second round of their choreography, looked at him with amused expressions, and one even did a twirl.
Ulysses sighed and, with a flash of his horn, sent the sheep back to wherever they belonged, probably some distant field where nobody would bother them with ballet ideas. “How do you do it?” he asked Flora, who was still chewing her cud peacefully.
“It’s all about attitude,” said the cow. “Don’t try to be normal. Just be.”
But Ulysses couldn’t just be. He had always been something more. And that was what frustrated him.
Desperate, Ulysses decided to find someone who could really help. He remembered that in a far-off valley lived a wizard named Harold. Although they called him a “wizard,” he was really just a guy who knew a lot about normal things. No one knew why they called him a wizard, probably because he had a long beard and wore pointy hats, which in the fantasy world automatically gives you the title of wizard, of course.
Ulysses began his journey, flying a bit lower than usual to seem less... well, less floaty. He arrived at the valley and found Harold in his workshop, which didn’t have a single spellbook in sight. Instead, there were piles of completely ordinary things: kitchen utensils, cuckoo clocks, and a collection of milk jugs.
“What brings you here?” asked Harold, not looking up from a toaster he was taking apart for some mysterious reason.
“I want to be normal,” said Ulysses determinedly.
“Normal, eh? Why would you want something so boring?” asked the wizard as he tried to put the toaster back together, though it was clear he had no idea how.
“Because I’m tired of everyone asking me to do magic. I want people to see me as just a regular unicorn, not a magical one who can make chocolate fountains appear out of nowhere.”
“Ah, the old dilemma of being versus seeming,” said Harold, clearly making up that phrase on the spot. “You see, being normal doesn’t mean you have nothing special. It means you allow yourself to be who you are, no matter what others think.”
“But I don’t want to be special,” Ulysses replied, crossing his hooves.
“Ah, but that’s the trick, young unicorn,” said Harold, putting the toaster down and raising a finger as if about to say something incredibly wise. “Sometimes the most normal thing is simply accepting who you are, even if that includes making a rainbow every now and then.”
Ulysses sighed, feeling like all his effort had been in vain. Maybe he was destined to be special forever.
After his conversation with Harold, Ulysses returned to the meadow. He walked slowly, thinking about everything he had learned. Being normal wasn’t as easy as he thought. But it wasn’t impossible either. Maybe what made someone normal wasn’t stopping being special, but simply being true to themselves.
One day, while strolling through the forest, he saw a small rabbit crying. The bunny had fallen from a tree (never ask how rabbits climb trees; it’s a mystery of nature). Ulysses, without thinking twice, used his magic to create a fluffy cloud that gently caught the bunny and brought it safely to the ground. The little bunny looked up at him with shining eyes and, through sobs, said, “Thank you, Mr. Unicorn.”
“You’re welcome,” Ulysses replied, and he smiled.
And that’s when he understood. Being special didn’t mean he had to impress everyone all the time. He could use his magic when it was needed and still enjoy the simple moments, like a walk in the forest or a nap under the sun.
From that day on, Ulysses decided that being normal wasn’t his goal. Being himself, with all that it meant, was what truly mattered. Some days, he made balloons appear for the village children, and other days, he simply grazed in the field with Flora. And surprisingly, he learned that being yourself was, in fact, the most normal and extraordinary thing of all.