When I was a little girl growing up in Cuba, a vibrant but small island in the Caribbean just 90 miles away from the United States of America, I was deeply influenced by the stories my father shared. He was my hero and my greatest inspiration, and his tales about America filled my imagination with hope and dreams. He spoke of a land filled with opportunities, freedom, and the promise of a better life. As a child, I envisioned a future where I could escape the constraints of my surroundings and embrace the American dream.

Little did I know that at the age of 27, I would find the courage to leave my homeland. I made the difficult decision to leave Cuba illegally, much like a rebellious teenager sneaking out of the house to explore the world. I felt an intense yearning for something new, something different—an opportunity to reinvent myself. I was acutely aware that all my dreams, my aspirations for a fresh start, and my desire for a new life were tantalizingly close, just across those 90 miles of ocean.

However, after spending 15 years in America, I began to confront a harsh reality. I realized that America did not extend the love and acceptance I had so fervently hoped for. Instead, I found myself facing the same rejection and oppression that I had once experienced in Cuba. It felt as though America had reduced my dreams to merely a quest for its green card, neglecting the emotional and cultural connection I held for this land. I had come seeking the paradise my father had described—a place of freedom and opportunity—only to discover a reflection of my own struggles.

As I grappled with my place in this new country, I felt a profound disconnect. I struggled to understand why America, a land I had idealized, didn’t seem to understand me in return. Yet, as I navigated my way through its complexities, I began to recognize that America, too, has its own pain, struggles, and insecurities. I realized that my feelings toward America were shifting; what I once thought was disdain transformed into a deeper understanding and connection.

Despite the challenges, I came to recognize that America is a part of who I am. I love you, America. You are woven into my spirit, coursing through my blood.

You embody both the light I seek and the darkness I confront daily. In this intricate dance of love and challenge, I’ve come to accept that while America may not always love me back in the way I had envisioned, it remains an integral part of my identity and existence. I truly love YOU America.