Growing Up with Sima: My Transgender Friend in Post-Revolution Iran
Growing up as a girl in Iran during the 1980s, amidst the chaos of the Iran-Iraq War and the oppressive atmosphere following the revolution was no easy task. I had a childhood friend who stood out in ways I couldn’t fully understand at the time. Sima was unlike any of my other friends. From an early age, she insisted on being called Siavash (سیاوش) — a common male name — and kept her hair short, defying the laws that required all girls to cover their hair and bodies once they turned seven.
As a tomboy myself, I spent my days playing soccer, climbing trees, and engaging in sports with boys in my family and neighborhood. Sima was always by my side, joining in every game and adventure. We were often the only girls in these activities, even challenging the boys to soccer matches. I vividly remember one such soccer match where unable to recruit any other girls, it was just Sima and me against a team of six or seven boys. Sima, our goalkeeper, and I gave it our all. We lost, but not without scoring some goals and putting up a good fight.
Despite my closeness to Sima, I never realized she was different until much later. While I began experimenting with makeup and feminine clothes at twelve, Sima retained her tomboyish style. I noticed that at some point, she stopped coming to school, and her mother was doing everything to take her to Germany, where they hoped she would find acceptance. It wasn’t until Sima’s mother tearfully confided in mine about the challenges Sima faced that I began to grasp the seriousness of her situation. My mother, unwilling to provide details, led me to assume it was a psychological matter. Sima’s mother was desperate to send her to America, but securing a visa was nearly impossible for Iranians after the revolution.
As time passed, we grew apart. One summer, I bumped into Sima. She had a short haircut and wore masculine attire, which I attributed to the fashion trends of the early 90s. We were joking around when the moral police stopped us, mistaking Sima for a boy. She didn’t deny it and even gave her male nickname. In a panic, I screamed that she was a girl named Sima, not a boy named Siavash. This confusion allowed us to escape the first time, but our luck ran out a couple of years later.
During another encounter with the moral police, Sima, by then about 15, was adamant about being a boy. This led to our arrest and a humiliating ordeal where the police forced her into a bathroom to check her genitals. Her mother was there, begging and explaining that Sima wrapped her growing breasts with box tape to hide them. The scene was traumatic, and I remember Sima’s screams vividly. I also remember the label ‘دوجنسی’ or ‘Bisexual’ being used to describe her condition when at the Police Station. All I knew about this at the time was a condition that no one in Iran wished on their worst enemy.
After that incident, Sima attempted to do the unthinkable by taking a large number of her grandfather’s pills. I will never forget the horror I felt when I saw Sima being taken away in an ambulance, accompanied by her mother’s screams and cries. Thankfully, she survived. Her family managed to send her to Germany, and soon after, they sold their house and left Iran. I lost contact with her, and despite searching for her years later, I never found her.
Recently, I confronted my mother about our treatment of Sima. She expressed regret and acknowledged that we were ignorant and fearful of what we didn’t understand. Our society often pressures us to conform, but my friendship with Sima taught me the importance of accepting and respecting people’s true selves.
Living in different countries has made me aware of the misconceptions and ignorance surrounding gender identity. My experience with Sima showed me that being transgender or having any number of gender or sex-related inclinations, is not a product of Western propaganda or cultural influence. If Sima could manifest her true self in post-revolution Iran, it is clear that gender identity is intrinsic and not dictated by culture.
Sima’s story is a testament to the strength and resilience of those who face immense societal pressure to conform. As she grew older, her presence became more scarce. She barely came out of the house, and when she did, the neighborhood boys bullied and laughed at her. Despite this, she continued to defy societal norms, using the side alley door to avoid attention and hiding her true self.
We should judge individuals by their character and actions, not by personal choices that don’t affect us. It is crucial to mind our own business and allow others the freedom to be who they are. My hope is that sharing Sima’s story will inspire more understanding and compassion for those courageous few who navigate life outside the conventional norms.
By: Giti Parsi
***This is a true story. All names & some minor details used in this story have been changed to protect the identity of the people involved.
