From one former hostage to 20 newly freed others

To those released from Gaza today, October 13, 2025 — and to your families and loved ones — I want to say from the bottom of my heart: Welcome home.

I know that word — home — might feel strange right now. It is familiar, yet somehow foreign. After so many days filled with fear, pain, loss, and uncertainty, freedom can feel almost too big to take in. You may find yourself smiling one moment and crying the next. That’s okay. I’ve been there too.

I was once a hostage — held in Cuba for 1,481 days. I remember my first day of freedom as if it were yesterday. The air felt heavier and crisper than I expected. Food was too rich. So many people wanted to welcome me home and ask what seemed like absurd questions. Everyone wanted to take a “selfie” with me — and I didn’t yet know what a “selfie” was. Even some ordinary sounds of daily life startled me.

I was deeply grateful, but I also felt guilty — joy for my release mixed with sorrow for those who did not survive.

What I learned is that freedom is not free and it does not come all at once. Walking out of captivity is only the beginning. It takes time for your heart and mind to catch up with your body. Healing is a journey — sometimes slow, sometimes surprising — but it is real, and it moves forward.

You might feel disoriented, restless, or even numb. Please remember: you are not broken, and you are not alone. Whatever you are feeling — even if you cannot yet put it into words — is part of the healing.

In time, you will rediscover the beauty of small things: sunlight on your face, laughter without fear, the warmth of someone’s embrace. These moments will slowly remind you that life still holds joy.

Captivity will always be a chapter in your story, but it will not be your whole story — and it will not define you. You will find meaning again. You will find peace again.

For me, the first true taste of freedom was realizing that I could walk as far as I wanted — in a straight line — without anyone stopping me. It felt strange, almost unreal. But now, nearly 10 years and 10 months later, I can tell you that it did not take long for me to believe — truly believe — that I was free. That I could make decisions for myself. That whatever decision I made was my choice.

From one former hostage to another, I welcome you back — to the world, to your people, and to yourselves. Take it slowly. One breath, one step, one day at a time.

With love and solidarity,

Alan P. Gross
Former Hostage in Cuba (2009–2014)