My older brother was dogmatic and strict, the strictest member of our family. One reason I did not continue my education after high school and instead chose to marry was the pressure my brother put on me. I had to follow a certain dress code and was not allowed to wear makeup or thread my face. Think how hard this must be for a teenager, at a time when looks are most important! It sounds hard to believe, but the slightest deviation from these rules meant scolding and beatings.
I saw having a family of my own as the only way out of this existence. A young man came along, expressing interest in me, and, thinking I might never have such an opportunity again, I gave in. We married as soon as he returned from military service. Marriage and raising a family meant everything to me as a woman, but it never occurred to me whether he could be a decent family man.
I soon found out I was pregnant. Three months later, Siamak, my 22-year-old husband, fell into addiction. We lived on the outskirts of town, and in those days, there weren’t as many cars or taxis. So, I’d mostly stay at home, with Siamak going into town, supposedly because of work. In reality, he was pursuing his addiction, shooting up drugs with his buddy in an abandoned home. As he still had to make a living, he’d borrow money from acquaintances, saying that it was for his job in food production. I was unaware of all of this.
In those days, if a young couple needed 10 thousand toumans to live on, he would bring 2 thousand at most and say it was all we had. How little it was! It was so hard – he’d tell me not to buy or spend anything as he was in debt. With him being young, the addiction did not reveal itself as much, and I’d never in a million years believe it was so – I trusted him. His brother was an addict, and I’d tell him I hope you never fall into the same trap, because if you do, I’ll leave you. As it turned out, he did fall into that trap, but I didn’t leave him. I had no family to support me – my father was not involved, my mother earned only enough to support herself, and my elder brother threatened to kill me if I ever got a divorce. Can you believe he would actually do that instead of siding with me?
Siamak would be gone for months at a time. Just think what it was like for a young wife! It came to a point where the lenders would come by our door, threatening to retaliate against my husband if he didn’t pay his debts. We had to move from place to place as a means of escape, and with a small child, it was more difficult than you could ever imagine.
When our daughter Mina was 6 years old, he got in trouble with the law, as he had gotten into selling drugs. I had no money, was not working at the time, and there were nights when Mina and I would sleep on empty stomachs.
I had a passion for styling hair, shaping eyebrows, applying makeup, and the like, but had no means to learn the trade. I remember praying, “God, you know I have no money, but I desperately want to take beauty lessons.” As I was on my way to buy bread one day, I came across a beautiful house that had recently been converted into a beauty salon. I’d never seen the place before. I went inside and saw a fashionable lady who had just moved in, then asked if she needed any help. It just so happened that she was. It was as if God heard my plea and directed me there!
While I never received any formal lessons, I carefully observed everything she did, from cutting and coloring hair to applying makeup. I’d even get down on my knees and scrub the floors – nothing was beneath me. No matter what it took, I wanted to learn all I could and succeed in the trade. I eventually gained the expertise to work with customers myself, to the point that they encouraged me to get a license of my own.
All I had to do now was open a salon. It was a challenge to purchase furniture or equipment, as Siamak was still in the throes of addiction. I finally settled for a room adjacent to a front yard, throwing together the very basics – an old chair, a mirror, a vanity table of my sister’s from over 30 years ago, two flower vases, and extra seats. It was the official start of my career.
In the process of becoming a stylist, I developed communication skills and a keen sense of public relations. Despite my humble beginnings and the obstacles I faced, I was never envious of those who were better off. I always wanted the best for everyone, showing love and compassion to everyone I’d meet.
My line of work also made it possible for me to genuinely connect with other women. Many of them would confide in me with their personal issues. At times, there would be sisters-in-law or other family members who’d talk to me behind one another’s backs, but I’d maintain discretion and confidentiality. This has enabled me to gain the trust and respect of my clientele.
Meanwhile, Siamak had been jailed for drug possession. I regularly visited him in prison, which was several hours away. As a young woman, I faced advances from the guards and authorities, but I always stood my ground. Over the years, some men also encouraged me to leave my husband. But I was hesitant to make certain choices at the price of my honor.
I’d often say, God, you know I have nothing else to hold on to but you. I was all on my own, having started everything from scratch without family support and a decent husband. Some husbands may not be great, but at least provide for their wives and children. Mine not only did not support me in any way but also gave me all kinds of trouble. Having come out of jail, he would take the money I’d saved without telling me. At times, he’d even storm into the salon and yell at me in front of my customers to hand him over some money, and I’d oblige just so he would stop embarrassing me and get lost.
The time finally came when I told him I could not give him any more money. He was using opium and had also developed a heroin addiction, which was expensive. I hope you never encounter a heroin addict! He’d stay in the bathroom for hours shooting up and could barely stand or walk when he came out. At one time, he had been away for two weeks, during which I found some peace. I was busy at the salon when he returned, screaming at me to hand over some money. My tears were falling before all my clients. They tried to comfort me and said it was OK, I could go and take care of the matter.
I went upstairs to confront Siamak, who kept raising his voice. I told him how sick and tired I was of it all, saying I’d call 110 on him if he didn’t stop. As soon as I picked up the phone and said, “Hello, 110?” I felt something stick in my back. Turning around, I saw him with a knife in his hand. I was extremely fortunate that he was in a weakened, drugged state; otherwise, he would have driven half the knife in me. But blood was trickling down my back, and as I made my way downstairs to the salon, my assistants said they were willing to strangle him with their own hands. I said no, it’s no use, he’s not in his right mind.
I stayed in that marriage for 15 years. There were several reasons for this: First, I had no support from family or society. It took time for me to become financially independent. Also, my daughter, Mina, was deeply attached to her father throughout her childhood. As she grew older and more mature, seeing her father’s actions for what they were, it became easier for her to distance herself from him. It was only then that I decided to separate from my husband – if I had done so earlier, she would have blamed me for the worsening of his addiction.
I can’t help being as caring as I am. If I were colder and less forgiving, I’d have probably left him much sooner. But I kept thinking about Mina, not wanting her to suffer as she loved her dad so much. And I’d tried numerous times to get him into rehab with my hard-earned money. He’d be sober for a few days and then go back to the drugs. I’d plead and argue with him, saying look at me, look at our child – we must build a future for her! You love her so much, so pull yourself together even if only for her sake. You must choose – it’s either us or the drugs. He’d listen and listen, and after a couple of hours, pack his things together and leave. My God! All this talk, and he’d go back to his old ways.
Even after the divorce, I allowed him to stay at my place. It sounds crazy, but I’d think, where do I send him? He had nowhere to go. His parents were dead, his sister lived in Germany, and his brothers struggled with their own addictions. It was horrible. He had no one, and it was New Year’s Eve. But naturally, it was hard on my daughter and me, so finally I just told him, “This isn’t your place anymore. Pack up your things and go.” And even after that, I can’t say there weren’t nights that I’d stand by the window, worrying about how he was holding up. One month later, I learned he had overdosed and died.
Siamak was kind and had a great personality; someone you’d be taken with if you ever saw him. He was so polite, so emotional – it was the drugs that ruined him. If only he’d never gotten involved in the first place.
In this country, there is a lot of pressure on women like me – women with no support or who are surrounded by abusive men. I’d once gone to court with my husband to obtain a divorce. He couldn’t even manage to sit up; it was so bad.
“Ma’am, why are you here?” they asked.
I said I wanted a divorce. “Don’t you see what state he’s in?”
“You want to divorce him because of an addiction?” they inquired. “Addiction is an illness, a curable one, and you want to divorce him just for that?”
“Just look at him, he’s so drugged he keeps falling off the chair, he can’t provide for the family at all, there’s no security whatsoever – not financially, not socially, not emotionally.”
“Ma’am, you’re wasting our time,” they said. “Get up and leave!”
Even after I managed to obtain a letter of permission from the Supreme Court Justice of the province to get a divorce, authorities would tell me I still needed my husband’s permission. They said I’d have to get him to sign the papers for administrative purposes. Unbelievable!
In my experience, women are much more duty-bound and responsible than men. Especially after losing her husband, she manages the household, raises her children, and oversees all manner of business. Men lose themselves in such circumstances. They don’t know what the hell to do; they don’t know how to take care of their kids, they just remarry. I see it happen all the time.
I feel for women in circumstances like my own, who are under pressure from their husbands, because it’s usually the men who cause this kind of oppression in society. I ask them, what do you want to do? What’s your desire? Because they come to me in desperation. I tell them, you’re not obliged to put up with such things. There’s no reason for you to think you’re less than a man. I truly believe they can stand on their own feet, and I encourage them to follow their dreams.
Nowadays, women can do anything she sets her mind to. There are many opportunities for women to become financially stable. Even if the pay is low, at least it’s her job, her own money, and a step towards gaining respect.
A woman should know her self-worth. She owes it to herself to become independent. Because no man is worth it.