When I came to America, I learned a lot about the importance of being an individual. I loved that idea. It wasn’t something I was exposed to much in Iran. My own childhood experience was defined by being told that I had to sacrifice everything for my family and community. […]
I hadn’t thought about my brother much since I’d left Iran. I assumed he’d found his own way. But one day, when I was on the phone with my folks back home, I asked to speak with him. “Your brother isn’t talking,” my father said. “To me?” “To anyone,” he […]
I didn’t expect that meeting Meha was going to keep me up at night, but it did. In my dreams, those days, I was always on a boat in the middle of a dark ocean, when a bigger boat, full of male guards, stopped mine to arrest me and take […]
Marco was waiting for me outside Jivamukti Yoga Studios, leaning against a white Ferrari. He held the door for me and I got in. “Okay, yoga girl,” he said. “What do you feel like eating?” “I don’t care,” I said. “Let’s just drive.” This was our first date. Spring 1998. […]
It wasn’t easy to find the right Ali Mohamedian on Facebook. That name is about as common in Persian as “John Smith” is in English. But I was determined to make amends, after all these years. And to thank the man who was responsible for getting me out of Iran. […]
I lived in a tent for a month. Not a refugee tent, though I am an immigrant from a war-torn country. But no, this was a dark-blue camping tent pitched in the middle of the living room, because I didn’t want to have anything to do with my boyfriend. And […]
