Trapped Butterfly

I’ve always been amazed by butterflies; their innate ability to transform from a caterpillar into these beautiful creatures with wings. They’re one of my favorite insects, and as a kid I’d often find myself dreaming about becoming one, especially once I learned about the true journey they take when it’s time for them to travel. I’d imagine myself as a caterpillar, waiting for my wings to grow so that I too could fly far away from everything and everyone. Far, far away from home. 

When I was a young girl, if someone would have asked me where I saw myself living as an adult, my answer would have been: “Anywhere in this world that allows me to feel free.” 

It’s no wonder that I’m now a flight attendant, and on the surface you might say, “Look at you! You made your childhood dream come true!” - but that’s the thing about only looking at things on a surface level…you never know what really lies beneath. 

My job allows me to fly far away from home, but my deepest fear makes me return. What is that fear? Abandoning my mother. 

My mother, the woman who should be my parent, but somehow and somewhere along the line, I became hers. The moment I allow myself to envision myself settling down somewhere far away and calling that “home”, guilt creeps in to remind me of all the ways things could get fucked up. I feel incredibly responsible for my mother, and always have. I’ve been with her since she was 17 years old, watching over her through every stage of her life through my tender eyes and mind. We practically grew up together. She depended on me in so many ways when I was young, and now that I'm an adult, she still does, and it makes me question if she’ll thrive on her own the day I decide to leave.

Inner work has forced me to confront my thoughts and feelings around this recently, and I’ll admit, it has left a hole in my chest that I’m working through healing.

I know that it’s not my job to raise her, after all, I have my own life to figure out, but the little girl inside me shudders in fear at the thought of abandoning her, while simultaneously acknowledging the dream we’ve put on the backburner. 

And this is why healing your trauma is so fucking important.

I get it now. More and more, every day, I get it.

I still dream of someday finding my own place in this world to call a home that’s far away from the place I call home now. Whenever I come across a butterfly, I’m reminded of the freedom I want to feel, and whenever I get on a plane, I practice visualizing myself as the butterfly I want to be - one that migrates without fear, guilt, or shame. One that is responsible only for herself.

My emotions make me feel like a trapped butterfly, but in my mind, I know that I’m the one who holds the key that will ultimately set me free.