Sometimes I find myself staring at the butterflies in my backyard—those small yellow or white ones fluttering aimlessly among the croton plants and the crumbling old walls. I look at them and, without being able to help it, I think about freedom.
For someone living outside of here, freedom might be something everyday, almost invisible: the ability to hop on a plane to anywhere, to speak your mind out loud without looking back over your shoulder, or simply the peace of mind that comes with planning for tomorrow without uncertainty tearing your plans apart in a second.
But when you live on this island, freedom feels just like those butterflies.
A butterfly is fragility itself. Its wings are as thin as tissue paper, and any strong breeze looks like it could break them. Yet, they fly. They don't recognize fences, borders, iron bars, or concrete walls. They cross the sea if they set their minds to it—light, detached from the weight of our daily routines, our long lines under the scorching sun, and our quiet frustrations.
Here in Cuba, many of us feel like we’ve been living inside a chrysalis for years. A hard, heavy shell that protects us on the outside, but squeezes our souls on the inside, suffocating us day after day. We get used to the confinement, folding our wings so they fit into the narrow space we’ve been given, convincing ourselves that this cocoon is all there is.
But freedom isn't just about being able to fly far away; it's the inner strength to break out of the chrysalis.
Even if we sometimes feel like our wings have been clipped, the desire to fly remains untouched in the hearts of everyday people. You see it in the Cuban who dreams of a different future, in the one who decides to emigrate searching for wider horizons at the cost of leaving their entire life behind, but also in the one who stays and quietly fights to keep their dignity, their joy, and their truth alive.
Freedom, in the end, is like those butterflies in the yard: delicate, beautiful, at times seeming unreachable or fleeting, yet so necessary that a single moment of full flight makes all the waiting and all the pain worthwhile.
It’s a pleasure to share my thoughts; I hope you enjoy them. If you do, please leave a comment and share your opinion—I’d love to hear from you! 😘