Choosing Love: Within and Between Us

We live in a world with so much underutilized intelligence. We’re capable of doing more, being more, and creating better versions of ourselves. Yet when faced with difficulty, our instinct too often is to destroy the problem.

But the truth is: problems will always exist. If not this one, another. And if we keep responding with destruction, we not only eliminate the issue but ourselves and everything good in between.

Someone recently asked me, “What do you think about the Iranian government?” I said, “My people have been held hostage for decades.”

Without missing a beat, he said, “Then shouldn’t we launch a war against them? Innocent people would die. But eventually, there’d be freedom.”

My heart sank. I wanted to cry.

I imagined the faces of young kids, mothers, fathers — ordinary and innocent people — swept away in the name of a “freedom” offered through war. I know he’s not alone in thinking this way. That’s what terrifies me.

Me at 14 during the Iran–Iraq War.

There’s so much darkness, cruelty, and disconnection right now. But at the same time, there’s extraordinary beauty and compassion. Why are we so divided? I think the problem starts within.

Many of us are at war with ourselves. We reject parts of who we are: wounded parts, insecure parts, shadows we don’t want to admit we carry. We try to suppress, erase, or exile them. But they don’t disappear. They grow louder, angrier, and more desperate to be seen. And so the inner war continues.

I’ve been there. I spent years trying to silence parts of myself I thought were weak or unlovable. It wasn’t till I welcomed and worked with them that I became more whole. And in becoming more whole, I became more peaceful too. Of course, I have my off-days. But when I notice this, I choose inner harmony and democracy.

I wish we could stop these wars and give children a chance to grow up, dream, create, and love. I’ve spent decades as a therapist helping teens and their families heal and reconnect. If I was killed in the Iran-Iraq War, none of that would have been possible.

One person can do so much good.

Have we really considered the future we are destroying with every war we justify?

This is Yael. She’s from Israel. And I’m from Iran.

We share a partner whom we love deeply — and through that love, we’ve also come to love each other.

We were raised on opposite sides of a story that told us we should fear, resent, or even hate each other. We were taught to compete. To mistrust. To see each other as enemies.

But we are choosing a different path. We are choosing love. Again and again.

We both knew our freedoms also depend on seeing freedom for Palestinians. We bonded on that truth.

Right now, both our countries are bombing each other. Our families live with the constant weight of fear — some have already been displaced, others preparing to leave their homes. A street I grew up on is completely destroyed and many of our neighbors are dead.

Still, we choose love.

As children, we were targeted by propaganda, bullied by peers and leaders alike — voices that told us to hate, to dehumanize, to stay divided.

But we have grown into adults who see beyond those voices. Together, we resist. We resist by embracing each other. We resist by loving across the lines we were told should separate us.

This may not seem revolutionary to everyone. But to us, this is everything.

Because this is how we dismantle the power of those who profit from war and fear — by refusing to let them decide who we are to each other. We might be born in fascist countries, but that doesn’t define who we are.

We stand together, with compassion.

We know we want the same thing: for the next generation to grow up with the freedom to fall in love, to live without fear, to be human — fully and freely.

We will keep standing.

Against racism.

Against Islamophobia.

Against antisemitism.

Against war.

Against hate.

We will keep choosing love — within and between us. Over and over again. Because that’s how peace begins.

What does choosing love look like for you right now?

Is there a part of yourself—or a person, place, or story—you’ve been at war with?

I’d love to hear how you’re learning to make peace, within and between.

Share your thoughts in the comments, or write a letter to that part of you that’s still waiting to be met with compassion

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👉🏼 If this resonated, read my memoir to learn about the full journey and the experiences that led us here.

📖 My Name Means Fire is available wherever books are sold.

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