Woman, Life, Freedom
The 2022 women-led uprising and protests in Iran, a historical movement shaping into a revolution, profoundly resonate with me. The source of the resonance is deeply rooted in my Persian blood and the experiences I had for the past decades of my life, migrating out of my home country. These days, the words echoing in my mind are perseverance, endurance, resilience, power, unstoppable, and hope for a better life.
Are these traits printed onto our DNA, passed down through the generations, gained by life circumstances, or both? Or sometimes, bravery is born just because enough is enough when one is pushed to the boundaries and stands on the edge?
For thousands of years, powerful Persian women were depicted in our history books and one of Ferdowsi's best historical literature and masterpieces, the Shāhnāmeh. We read that Persian women were heroes for leading, influencing, and fighting in battles of the most excellent Persian Empire. The same Empire whose king, Cyrus the Great, wrote the first declaration of human rights and set the Babylonian enslaved people free for the first time in history.
Today, we see women rising all over the cities of Iran and abroad, demonstrating their social disobedience and protests, fighting for their fundamental rights and freedom after more than forty years of suppression.
I am no soldier and have never fought in a battle. I may not have held a sword in my hands while riding a horse across a battlefield, but I certainly had my share of emotional and psychological struggles that shaped my strength. The closest I came to a gun was at a post-revolution mandatory training in middle school when I was 12 years old. It was an idiotic act by the occupier and oppressor of the Islamic Regime of Iran, who stole and derailed our 1979 revolution to overthrow the monarchy— the same Shah of Iran that brought nothing but improvements, pride, and honor to our country. That day, as part of the training, I held a Russian Kalashnikov in my small hands alongside the other girls in my school. We learned how to be a militia, disassemble, reassemble, and even shoot at a target in the schoolyard.
Even though I was a child of the revolution period and witnessed— and was a victim of, the regime's brutality at a very young age, I never discovered that trait of strength in me until I left Iran. Instead, I found them in the hardships and obstacles I had to overcome and problems I had to resolve independently.
By the Western definition, I was a nerd, doing exceptionally well in school. I never had a boyfriend in high school, but beautiful friendships and family surrounded me. I was the girl next door and still a teenager when my parents sent me to France to survive.
Paris was supposed to be a transitional stay until I obtained my visa to the US. However, I ended up living there unexpectedly for three years due to political and social circumstances that were out of my control. As if I didn't have enough of life events early on, my family decided that for my "safety" and protection, I was to marry a guy I had never met! He was living in the United States and was an Iranian-born American citizen who had left Iran before the revolution. Our families knew each other back home, making him a suitable match. He was ten years older than me and had just finished university in the US. I met him for the first time when he arrived in Paris a week before the "staged wedding." Until that day, I only saw pictures of him, but we talked on the phone frequently. He looked nothing like his pictures—older looking than I imagined.
So I got married, in a small chaotic ceremony, in the romantic city of Paris, except there was nothing romantic about it. Not a single member of my family attended. I remember my bizarre emotions on the wedding day. I was numb and confused and didn't know much about him. I hated my makeup and haircut and didn't even know most guests. The party was in a small apartment on the 30th floor at my sister-in-law's place, jammed with strange people. Like any young girl, I imagined my wedding day to be a dreamy, beautiful, and magical setting. That night, however, I was far from my fantasy and fairytale.
Arranged "remote" marriages were a norm those days because leaving the country was a priority to most families. In addition, people protesting against the regime were being arrested, tortured, and killed without legal prosecution. My options were limited. Also, If my liberal, educated, and young parents agreed to my arranged marriage, it meant to me that it was necessary. For me, marriage was only another step in life to get to the next. I wanted to go to the US to study and pursue my education. I thought maybe I would grow to like him. However, after moving to the US, I remained married longer than I wished for until I eventually found my way to independence.
Looking back, my three years in Paris had many ups and downs but mesmerizing in many ways that shaped my personality. For one, I had to deal with a depressed and selfish "inmate," who was my "husband's" sister. I lived with her and her husband (and occasionally her mother). The sister-in-law often clashed with me for no good reason and small matters, putting me down frequently. I was young and susceptible to her harsh words. I never figured out her anger and unnecessary bitterness. But I put up with her insanity and belittling like a champ because I had a bigger goal.
Some nights, my quiet sobs broke the silence of my room. The ache of missing my family and the impossibility of returning to Iran weighed heavily on me. During my stay in France, my mom visited only once, a fleeting moment of comfort in an ocean of loneliness. Gradually, I taught myself to emotionally detach, building walls around my heart to hurt less.
So, I kept living my French life, merging into a culture that, even to this day, has become part of my preferred lifestyle. I do remember beautiful, reflective moments in Paris. I fell in love with French crepes, strolled in the lovely Jardin du Luxembourg, and made wonderful international friends. I explored the dreamy south coasts of France, the Cote d'Azur, Nice, and Montpelier. Young and vibrant, I absorbed the culture like a sponge.
One of my favorite pastimes was walking along Saint Michelle (aka Lovers Street) and sitting in front of the much beloved Notre Dame Cathedral to write my diary and draw walkers and scenes. Sometimes, I had to move in and out of the places to live with my cousins and newly found friends. My cousins, who lived far away from Paris, were too busy and preoccupied to take care of me, and since I was waiting to hear of my visa for the US any day, I had to make frequent trips to the embassy weekly, so I had to stay near Paris.
I occasionally worked as a babysitter or helper in a store. Then, one summer, I saved enough money to register at the famous Sorbonne University to complete a French language certificate. It made me proud of myself. Meanwhile, my legal husband would visit me only a few times over the next two years, and I was thoroughly content with that arrangement.
I arrived in the US in November of 1988. I endured the good and bad situations for the first nine years in the US by staying focused. I worked at various jobs, including tutoring in college. I studied hard while playing a good little wife facing a complex identity crisis. I was living a dual life. One was energetic, focused, and a typical student with like-minded friends my age— Some didn't even know I was married, and I didn't feel that way either. The other was a responsible, unhappy, traditional wife with older folks. Picture a mischievous, lively, bohemian 25-year-old girl in ripped jeans with American flag prints cooking traditional meals for guests old enough to be her parents.
At times, I struggled to keep up with my studies. I was miserable having two very different lives; a volcano was ready to erupt inside me, but I stayed focused and strong. In 1993, I graduated from the UC Berkeley School of Electrical Engineering and Computer Science and secured a decent job at a high-tech company in California. Engineering was the fastest way to my freedom. I was good at technical subjects, which was a sure path to financial independence.
At heart, I had always wanted to be an artist. Unfortunately, my circumstances didn't allow me to consider that art would help me achieve my goals. With determination and self-realized power, I finally divorced in my mid-20s without a lawyer and with no legal complications, only emotional ones. We were operating at different frequencies in separate galaxies. So, I walked away with a backpack on my shoulder, no money, an uncertain future, and a solid university degree. With the strength of thousands of swords, I rode the horse of hope on the battlefield of my life.
By then, I hadn't experienced "normal" teenage years or a typical college student life. Although it took me over a decade to claim my independence and overcome my fear of being alone, I learned at a very young age to watch after myself, strategize, and plan for my future financially and career-wise. As a result, I found a strength and intention for life that I had never imagined having.
Many years later, I eventually pursued art and got my Graphic Design degree, too. But my true teacher and education remained my turmoils in life. When faced with certain survival situations, the sub-conscience mind takes control and drives much of the conscious mind. And that was how I operated.
As the years went by, my fear of trying new paths diminished. Some of my friends would tell me that they admire my willingness to change and try new things, but to me, it was all part of me and my everyday life. Even though some of my decisions were letdowns, and I even ended up in tears, the failures became my strength.
Of course, I have some regrets. Not that I had the ability to do things differently under the circumstances. Regret comes with the knowledge and experiences we gain in the present moment, which creates the desire to change past scenarios. Later in life, I eventually found my true voice, but it came with prices to pay and some regrets. I wish I had stood up to a few people more firmly and confidently. Knowing myself better now, I realize I didn't need to rely on anybody and would have done fine alone. For a long time, I had a recurring dream of walking up to certain people and slapping them hard.
I guess regret is not the right word since I can't turn back time, but if I could, I would never have left France and lived my life there as I intended: successful and determined.
Today, I enjoy traveling alone and seldom think about planning in detail because I know I will manage somehow —as if I want to test my limit.
"Travel is about the gorgeous feeling of teetering in the unknown" —Anthony Bourdain.
Despite the tumultuous waves of events that carried me through those years, a few things remained constant: my determination and goal-driven actions, my friendly and social personality, my love for exploring and traveling, and my relentless desire to be better and more successful. I embrace new experiences and learn from them rather than being haunted by "What if?" Life taught me to navigate tribulations independently, often creating new challenges to overcome them. Rather than gaining new strength, I uncovered a profound, ever-present resilience within myself and developed fearlessness. Today, I can stand firmer in the face of injustice and metaphorically slap it back.
"And one day she discovered that she was fierce and strong, and full of fire, and that not even she could hold herself back because her passion burned brighter than her fears." ― Mark Anthony, The Beautiful Truth.
We need to touch the bottom of the sea of life to dig the rare gem hidden within a seashell buried under the sand. The tears of an oyster are what create an unbreakable pearl. I believe enduring over forty years of unfairness, limitations, and forceful control by brutal suppressions of the regime of Iran helped the new generation today to find their voice and power.
My ever-growing personality and empowering journey didn't end with my independence after migrating to the US. Instead, it only became a new beginning in the following chapters of my life, where I discovered more of my capacity and resilience, with no limit to coping with the impediments of what life would bring me. I witnessed what didn't kill me, making me more vital and resolute.
"The show must go on" — Freddie Mercury.