Survivor’s Guilt

A few weeks ago, I was horrified to find myself online, in the middle of booking a plane ticket to Iran. I know part of me really wants to be with my sisters and brothers at the moment when they’re on the cusp of ending forty years of tyranny and oppression. But another part of me was terrified to realize what a suicide mission I was planning. I would never make it to the streets of Tehran to join in the protests. I’d be immediately detained at the airport for all the things I’ve written.

So I booked a ticket to Mexico instead. Sun. Ocean. Yoga. Working on my mental health. It sounded like what I tell my clients all the time, but part of me still felt guilty. How could I be having fun at a time like this? But then I thought: Does not having fun help the Iranian people? The truth is that no one knows how long it will take this regime to fall. In the meantime, we have to stay healthy.

I ran away from Iran when I was a teen. That was my way of rebelling against a regime that robbed me of my childhood. I never imagined the possibility of staying and fighting back against the forced hijab. Back then, I was too terrified. I got punched in the face for playing soccer with the boys in my neighborhood. I got detained, harassed by the police, constantly. By the time I was fourteen, my teachers, also terrified, started talking to me about finding safety in marriage. I had night terrors every night.

But this generation of Iranians is different. They aren’t running. They love and fight for each other, even if they don’t personally know each other. They say no, knowing that “no” can cost them their lives, because they know saying nothing is like death already. And they know that, by reclaiming their land, culture, and dignity, they are showing the world that it’s possible to stand up to fascism and oppression.

Survivor's guilt is a powerful, complex thing. Yesterday at twilight, I watched the sun and moon dance together in the sky. And I felt so many things at once. Happiness to be alive. Determination to do what I can, through my art and writing, to help this revolution. And so much pain that is only just starting to express itself.