East Meets West

Spending time in Istanbul this summer has helped me redefine my relationship with my family on my own terms. 

When I was a child in Iran, the idea of a relationship on my own terms meant absolutely nothing. Relationships were set in stone: people expected me to act and communicate in fixed ways. My only choices were to stay or go, to submit or rebel. So I rebelled, which was necessary, but also exhausting.

Istanbul has helped me widen my options. I’m not Turkish, but this place in many ways feels like home, like a perfect cross between the Iran of my childhood and New York City, where I live now. Like New York, Istanbul has enormous diversity and freedom. There’s a thriving queer scene here (Turkey legalized homosexuality in the 19th century) and a more welcoming attitude toward immigrants (many Ukrainian refugees have flocked here.) I love just hopping on the subway and people-watching.

But in many ways, Istanbul also feels like Iran. My senses are engaged in the same way: the smells of somaq and saffron, the taste of dried pear and fish kebab, and the sounds of the prayer call that wakes me up every morning at 5 am. But here, there’s also the feeling of being safe enough to enjoy these things, which I never could do as a child.

Here, when I spend time with my family, I feel secure enough to tell them how I feel and what I need. It’s not a strain. It comes effortlessly. I also ask them to do the same with me. When there are issues, we don’t hide them or act as though everything is okay. We put problems on the table right away and look at them as a team.

I don’t want to suggest that healthy relationships are always easy or even possible. My family has really stepped up too. But I do know that healthy relationships take a certain kind of stubbornness, a refusal to let the past define the present. Whoever you are reading this, I hope you find your own Istanbul, your own place where you can experience the fruits of all your work on relationships.