Born to be a butterfly.

I was born to be this way! And yes, I'm a girl, haha.

I found this card in an old box of my baby things about 5 years ago. Now there is no argument that I was born to be a butterfly. As you can see, before I even had a name, my cradle was labeled with a butterfly with a big red heart underneath.  And if you look closely, there's also a big sun shining underneath the heart and butterfly. Just in case you ever wondered, according to the book of Baby names, my name is a French pet form of the name Elizabeth. Its meaning has Hebrew origins with translations that mean "God's promise; God is my oath; oath to God."

Seven years ago, I sat on a bench in-between my classes at UCLA in the Sculpture Garden and a beautiful Monarch butterfly glided around me as I sat there thinking how I was going to get over the depression that had taken my life hostage. I felt so lucky to have this beautiful creature hanging around me. And when I finally smiled in its direction, it landed on my left knee. Only for what seemed like half a second, it slowly fluttered its wings as if it were telling me that I was not alone. I found myself instantly fascinated and inspired by the idea that what I was going through was like the metamorphosis of a butterfly. I felt like my depression, PTSD and pain were like the darkness of the cocoon. And I kept telling myself that one day I would come out of the cocoon stronger than I could ever imagine and I would have wings to accomplish anything I set out towards. But I was so angry, afraid, ashamed and haunted by the PTSD that it took me a long time to realize just what I had to do. One day I read a quote by Anais Nin in the book Broken Open, “And the time came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”  This single sentence gave me the exact direction I was so desperately seeking. It was going to require a great risk. I had to tell everyone I cared for what happened to me and what I was going through but it had to be done and I desperately needed professional help. It took five years but with God, therapy, Lexapro (anti-depressant), Broken Open, meditation, my friends, and my unabated desire to be as free as the Monarch butterfly that inspired me, I metamorphose into the butterfly I was born to be.

 

 

 

 

I am proud to say that I have overcome the darkest of my days and I’ve done it in such a way that you would never know that almost nine years ago I survived a woman’s worse nightmare. Primo Levi says it best, “The butterfly's attractiveness derives not only from colors and symmetry: deeper motives contribute to it. We would not think them so beautiful if they did not fly, or if they flew straight and briskly like bees, or if they stung, or above all if they did not enact the perturbing mystery of metamorphosis: the latter assumes in our eyes the value of a badly decoded message, a symbol, a sign.”

 

 

After the darkness of the cocoon is broken open, the butterfly emerges as a symbol of the beginning of a new life.

 

If Home is where the heart is then this is where I am and where I want to be.

Home is where you should grow up and feel the safest. A refuge from the toxicity and dangers of the outside world. The place you look forward to returning to every time you leave no matter how near or far your journey has taken you.  Home is where you should learn what true love is and feel unconditionally loved at all times. 

I have always dreamed of coming home to a place I can call my own. A place where I always feel welcomed and loved.  A place where I feel safe from the outside world. A place where the people I love comfort me from the day the day stresses. My parent’s home was this place for me up until I turned 8 years old. It seemed my mother and father no longer found hugs or saying I love you necessary anymore. And my older brother learned how to channel his aggression towards me. His taunts and aggression turned physically violent.  I didn’t understand why he was so angry with me or why none of my parents came to my rescue. He punched me straight into my chest with a closed fist because I didn’t want to play with him anymore. I immediately gasped for air and could not breathe. I fell to the floor in the middle of my  bedroom. He looked back at me in anger and then ran out towards the backyard to continue to play with our younger brother. I sat there for what seemed like 10 minutes without being able to catch my breath. I began to cry. The tears ran down my face as I walked towards the kitchen to find my mother. I told her what happened and that my chest hurt. She simply turned her head and said just play inside. She didn’t inspect my chest or dry my tears. Not even a hug. This was and is my mother’s attitude. Her housework is her priority and she was always too busy to even keep an eye on us. My brother was not reprimanded for his behavior. My mom was never good at comforting us as she was raised by my grandmother, the orphan who also didn't know how to show affection.  Our Dad was simply never there because he was the sole income and had to work. It often felt like we were alone in that house.

Currently, my parent's house often feels cold and full of animosity.  I often linger in my car listening to the radio and avoiding entering the house.  There are so many reasons why I don't feel at home here. Not only because of the above but because of a lifetime of distance that exists between my parents and me.  If it wasn't for the existence of my younger sisters, being here would sometimes be completely unbearable. I have tried to stay here as long as possible so I can support my sisters and help them through their difficult teenage years and into adulthood. I love them as if they were my own daughters because I have raised them from birth to diaper changing, to feeding, to their first steps, bed-wetting, nightmares, their first day of school, their high school graduations, first heartbreaks and their first day of college. The sacrifice has been worth every minute of being in this place where I often don't feel at home.

Luckily, my two apartments at UCLA and my ex’s parent’s house felt more like my home than any of the three houses my parents have owned. I finally felt safe and at peace. I felt love, embrace, validation, protection and support. My roommates although initially were strangers, they were always supportive of my goals and dreams and they held my hand during my tough days, dried my tears and even tucked me into bed. We took care of each other, no matter what the situation. My ex’s parents were the first to show me unconditional love. They welcomed me into their home, their family and their hearts almost from the beginning.  They taught me what a true family home should feel like and how family members are supposed to care for and support each other no matter what.  I am blessed and forever grateful for the love that Mr. and Mrs. Rivas gave me and continue to share with me from heaven. I know she will be cheering me on and guiding me everyday of my life from heaven.

I dream of the day when I have a home of my own where I can teach my future children the meaning of a home, family, unconditional love and support. A place they can call their own and always feel welcome.  Not just in words but also by example and showing them what these things mean.  I can’t wait for my kids to come home to the smell of their favorite food or pastry and I run to the door to greet them with hugs and kisses. I can’t wait to hear how their day at school went and listen to their stories and the interesting things they learned. I promise to hug them when they’re crying and dry their tears. I promise to tend to and heal all their wounds. I promise to protect them as much as I can and even from themselves if need be.  I promise that nothing in this world will be more important than you in my life.

And because home is definitely where your heart is, then my home is where ever my best friends are, in my studies, and in the hope and love I have for my future children. There is no other place I’d rather be right now than with you. I love you guys and my sisters to death. I would do anything for you and I'll always be here for you.