The Myth of the Beautiful Butterfly

We forget the butterfly’s journey doesn’t end when it emerges with wings…

This piece isn’t so much about parenting hacks or parenthood, but perhaps a reminder that we are human. Even after magical changes and celebrations, life can and will still kick our ass, but as people and parents, we are equipped to keep going.

I realized this eleven years after my first trip to Costa Rica, when I found myself back in the jungle area of the surfers’ paradise. I had salt water running out of my nose, and the warm equatorial sun blazed down on me while I bobbed in the ocean. I thought about how different my life was when I first visited the country. At that time, I was engaged; I wasn’t a mom. I had driven across the country a few times, and I was living in rented bedrooms or out of hotels, clawing my way back up from the ground. I needed a break, and escaped reality briefly by flying off to a surf camp for a couple of weeks.

Here I was again, in Costa Rica seeking refuge on a surfboard, this time due to a global pandemic. After we finished our surf session that morning, I left the beach and went back to the villa I was staying at. I pulled out my camera, and began to follow butterflies around. When I combed over my photos that evening, I could see the definition of the insects’ features. I noticed one butterfly in particular, a brown one with white lines on each wing, sprinkled with a couple of orange dots, had a tattered wing. While studying the photo, it occurred to me; the torn wing didn’t stop or slow down the butterfly; it held its beauty and continued on with life.

I could relate to this having gone through a series of life changes. After which, my friends said things like, “You are free. You can spread your wings and fly. You are ready to become the beautiful butterfly. You’re out of your cocoon”. Sure this was all great to hear, but after years of personal trials; single motherhood, having cancer, depression, and financial stress, I began to wonder when I would get the gorgeous wings my friends spoke of. I sure didn’t feel like the beautiful insect life had set me up to become.

But as I looked at the butterfly on my screen and saw its tattered wing, it occurred to me that we often discuss “becoming the butterfly.” We eagerly encourage others that their “butterfly moment” is coming, a magical turning point when life will get better and blissful. It’s not often discussed what happens after the butterfly shows up. Does it fly away, never to encounter more trouble, more stress? Does it just magically become a butterfly, with the perfect life of rainbows and unicorns?

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When we use this metaphor, we forget the butterfly’s journey doesn’t end when it emerges with wings; it’s only begun. Monarchs, for example, will fly thousands of miles to warmth and safety, and it’s not an easy journey. These creatures encounter all kinds of challenges; storms, famine, and thanks to humans, their journey may end on a windshield.

I started to pontificate that perhaps this was me, a butterfly who also had journeyed thousands of miles for warmth and safety, or perhaps out of human curiosity. I had hatched out of my cocoon and had my wings and colors, but single motherhood had left me no choice but to fly through a life filled with chaos and hard times — I too was a bit torn and shabby, but I kept going.

I was the butterfly with tattered wings. Wings that were were signs of a life truly lived. Signs, I had kept going, sometimes engaging with people and that enhanced my life experience. Other times I was intertwined in empty spaces and with people who drained me of my energy. Still, once I realized I had landed in an unsafe place, I picked up the pieces and moved on to better places and kinder people.

This turbulent journey is typical for humans. We have to recognize despite magical moments, or blissful life changes, we can’t stop there. We must spread the wings we earned, and let them carry us as we face ugly truths, storms, and detours that reveal themselves over time. Life isn’t ever just rainbows, unicorns and sunshine, but that doesn’t mean we can’t fly amongst them.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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