Unicorn Maker

08/23/2026

Dear Unicorn Maker,
Is marriage a scam and do women lose themselves once they sign the contract?
Sincerely, person from a Facebook group called "Vibrate Higher."
---
Dear Vibrate Higher member,
After 30 years of sticking to the vows I made and bested by my pride of keeping them because, my mother before me and her mother before her saw to it that we don't disclose those secrets. I followed the generational trauma to keeping those vows. The contract isn't the scam. The contract is the receipt. The scam happened before the paperwork — when vows became inheritance instead of choice. Nobody stopped to ask whether the vow still served. I kept mine for thirty years out of pride and loyalty to women who never examined theirs. Not the paper you sign, but the programming that was already running before you picked up the pen.
Before there was paperwork, there was word, not rules. Then, someone said, sign a contract so that word means you are legally bound to "keep your word."
There is a condition I've been reading about called undiagnosed or late diagnosed adult autism - the description sounds a lot like me. So, if you are like me, I did not understand how a husband is supposed to be. Nobody modeled that for me. I needed to feel safe. I built my template out of the man I married. I studied him the way you learn a language by immersion when you have no textbook.
I did not understand that my personal time I dedicated to my husband actually has monetary value. I was taught since a very young age that I was worthless. I believed that I did not deserve that kind of love that I see other people having. If you walk in believing you have no value, then your time has no value.
But my ex did not have a similar neglectful childhood. He became my teacher. I learned all his habits and stood behind his ideas and took them all on as my own. I completely gave away my identity. But I didn't lose myself. I couldn't access myself. My original identity was tucked away like a rose pressed inside a book as heavy as the KJV Bible — flat, dry, no dimension, but every petal still there. I buried myself, one adopted piece at a time, and I resented every single layer I laid on top of that rose. The resentment is the proof. You don't resent losing something you've forgotten you had. For thirty years I knew exactly what was happening to me. I just couldn't stop it.
Then I learned about Hindu, Greek and Egyptian, and Kabbalah teachings. I learned that they are the same or very similar to the teachings of the Christ named Jesus. The man with a foundation of Hebrew. Every tradition I found was pointing at the same door from a different side of the house. I said "the Christ named Jesus" on purpose. Christ is not his last name. Christ is a function — an anointing, a state anyone can access. A man named Jesus stepped into that function. If Christ is only one man's name, you're waiting for permission. If Christ is a state, you can walk into it yourself.
When we say, "Jesus was a Jew" — everyone skips the Jewish part. They jump straight to son of God as if that came pre-loaded. It didn't. Jesus had a preliminary education. He had a continuing education. He was raised in Hebrew tradition — that was his foundation, his framework, the structure he learned the human experience through. Being the son of God does not automatically bypass the need to learn what it means to be human. He had to do the work. Through a specific tradition. Through specific teachers. And we skip all of that because we've been taught that his divinity is the point, when his humanity — and the tradition that built it — is where the instruction actually lives.
To me, "Jesus was a Jew" meant that Jews were worthless because I felt worthless. The worthlessness doesn't stay in its lane. It doesn't just eat your marriage. It eats your ability to receive wisdom from any source your programming taught you to look past.
But our society from where I live in Georgia, USA, has also made other countries less superior or too scary to take any advice from.
We were forced to lose connection with source through my most favorite story to scorn. The book of Moses. The story I hated my whole life turned out to be my map out. We see it in the movies, we feel it. The slavery. How deeply do you feel that? How deeply do you feel that story affected you?
How long?
How long have you been carrying that burden of sadness? Of wanting freedom for those slaves? Of being okay with what they did to get that freedom?
Would you wait 40 years to finally get that freedom? You bet your sweet a$$.
Because, for me, losing everyone and everything in my path and not accepting anything from my old world as my truth.
You want that land of milk and honey in your life, you got to eat a lot of manna to get it. Forty years in the wilderness isn't punishment. It's how long it takes to stop packing provisions from Egypt. Manna is what shows up when you've agreed to accept only what arrives fresh — no leftovers from the old world, no recycled beliefs, no hand-me-down vows. I lost everyone and everything on my way out. Friends, family, the woman I'd assembled out of his habits. I'd do it again. Because here's what the movies never show you: some of the slaves missed Egypt. Some of them wanted to go back. The food was predictable there. The abuse was familiar. That's not freedom calling them back. That's the programming.
And the question you're really asking — is marriage a scam — is a freedom question. You're standing at the edge of the Red Sea asking whether the water will part. I'm telling you from the other side: it did. But the walk through is forty years of manna and you will lose everyone who isn't coming with you.
Got to be really careful with vows by keeping in mind that you can't always steer your future when the road is elusive.
I learned from a book of akashic prayers that the akashic field holds the record of every vow ever spoken across every timeline. One of the prayers in that book is specifically to break all vows. It's wordy. But the mechanism underneath is simple: a vow and its breaking are made of the same material — spoken word. Say the vow out loud, it goes live in the field. Say the break out loud, it cancels. That's all it takes.
A vow is something that can be broken simply by saying it. "I break my vow". This echoes across timelines and generations. But, my ex did not tell me he broke his verbal word. So his side of the vow went dead while my side kept running — thirty years of keeping secrets, holding structure, honoring a contract that only one person was still inside of. That's what echoes across timelines and generations. Not the vow itself. The half-broken ones. The ones where somebody walked away in silence and left the other person carrying the full weight of a two-person promise.
I did not understand at the time that the future does not exist in linear time. The future doesn't exist down the road somewhere. It's in the room with you right now, listening to what you say and what you refuse to say.
I finished mine out loud. Three words: I break my vow - the verbal contract that has been handed down for eons. That's the cancellation code. But you have to say it where it can be heard — by you, by the field, by every generation that kept the secret before you.
Or you keep carrying their weight and calling it loyalty.
Good luck to all fighting a similar battle.
Laura Swan, Unicorn Maker

Send a message to learn more

08/02/2026

I'm Laura Swan — Unicorn Maker, Spiritual Alchemist — and before any of that had a name, I was sitting in a classroom learning the formal structure of something I apparently already carried.

My name isn't an accident.

It comes from two places.

The first is my horse. She came to me already beautiful — a PRE–Paint cross with everything she needed already inside her. The work we did together through natural horsemanship brought out what was always there. In the horse world, what she became has a name: a unicorn. The horse everybody wants and almost nobody has. Exceptionally trained, extraordinarily sweet, magnificent in every sense of the word. We made that together. That's where the name comes from.

The second is The Last Unicorn.

If you know the story, you know the unicorn doesn't get to stay in her true form. She has to become human — smaller, more legible, more survivable — just to escape capture and face what's been driving everything magical into the sea. The Red Bull. The force that takes the luminous and pushes it into darkness, into captivity, into forgetting what it was.

She faces it anyway. That's the only way the others get free.

I know what it is to spend decades becoming something smaller just to survive. I know what the Red Bull looks like from the inside. I came out the other side with that knowledge intact — and I use it.

That's what I do with people. I find what was always there. I help bring it out. I make unicorns.

The practice of finding what's already there — that started long before I had a name for it.

I took my first healing classes before I ever put my hands on anyone. Learned the structure of it, the ethics of it, the responsibility of it. Permission isn't a formality in this work — it's the foundation. Nothing happens without a yes. That was true on day one and it's still true now.

The practice started in a church in New Jersey. Every Sunday, people would sit in my chair, give me permission, and I'd place my hands on their shoulders. Something moved through me. I didn't have a complete name for it yet, but I knew it was real. The spiritualist tradition I trained in considered spiritual healing the highest form of mediumship. I took that seriously.

Then I took more classes. Learned that energy has structure — that it can be directed the way you guide a horse rather than yank a rein. And then, without planning to, I spent years practicing it every single day. I just wasn't calling it energy work. I called it horse training — natural horsemanship, specifically.

Bringing my energy up to move a thousand pounds of animal forward. Bringing it down to settle something that could kill me if it panicked. The horse read what I was sending before I knew I was sending anything. You can't fake your state with a horse. You can't think calm and be chaos and have it work. That's not a workshop skill. That's a decade of fieldwork with a partner who couldn't be talked into pretending.

When I finally found Qigong, my teacher considered me advanced from the start. His teacher watched videos of me working with my horse and recognized it immediately — tai chi. The horses had been teaching me all along.

Here's the part I don't skip. Once I found out this was real — that energy moves, that it responds, that it does something — it required discipline to match it. I came into this carrying thirty years of a marriage that convinced me I was never enough. Shame, humiliation, guilt — all of it stored in the body, wired into the nervous system. Real capability without a clear channel is sloppy work. That's why the daily clearing practice isn't decoration for me. It's what makes me trustworthy to sit across from. I take it seriously because you deserve the cleanest possible channel — not whatever I walked in carrying.

The energy healing is one thing. There's also this: sometimes what's keeping someone stuck isn't in the body — it's in the story they're telling about what happened. That's where the alchemy comes in. Not woo. Not positivity. Just — let's look at this from a different angle and see if that changes anything.

I'm not a prescriber. I'm a reader. I give you my best read of where you are in the moment, and then I listen to how it lands. If you give me more, I adjust. There are more roads to your answer than either of us can see from where we're standing. I might be on one of them. I might not. That's yours to decide. What you do with what I offer belongs entirely to you — and I mean that not as a disclaimer but as a belief I actually hold. No one gets to outsource their own knowing. Not to me, not to anyone.

The framework you're handed shapes what you think is possible. I try to hand people different frameworks.

What I bring to this work is lived authority — years of training, years of practice, and the particular knowledge that comes from having been inside the suffering I'm asking you to name. Not suffering like the person crying on the news. Suffering like a body that won't quiet down. Like a relationship that convinces you the problem is you. Like anxiety so chronic it stopped feeling like anxiety and started feeling like just being alive. I know it because I lived there. And I know what helped me find my way out.

I always wanted to work in medicine. Didn't land that way. But I ended up here instead — working on the same thing, just the version that doesn't show up on a blood test. And sometimes I can see a road that might open something for the person sitting across from me. I say it. They decide whether it belongs to them. The gap between seeing it and being able to hand it over — that's the work. That's always the work.

Send a message to learn more

06/13/2026

05/06/2026

A true emotional release from finally being understood. We have experienced the frustration of this but when our other humans finally get an idea, we can feel the same way! Our animals are communicating to us all the time. Try to understand what they are showing you.