Transcript for Writing Your Resilience Podcast Episode 113

How I Escaped Iran & Wrote My Way to Freedom with Atash Yaghmaian

Lisa Cooper Ellison [0:00] Welcome to Writing Your Resilience, the podcast for writers who want to write and live the story that sets them free. I'm your host, Lisa Cooper Ellison, a writer, transformational and trauma-informed coach, story alchemist, and fellow traveler on the winding road of healing and creativity. Each week I'll share tools, practices, and conversations that will help you let go of what no longer serves you as you create stories that change lives, especially your own. Together, we'll explore how to trust your creative voice, support your mental health and resilience, work with your nervous system and unique design, and stay connected to your deepest calling as a writer, even when life gets messy. It's time, my friends, to write and live the story that sets you free. I'm honored to walk that journey alongside you, one story and one episode at a time.

Well, hello, Atash. Welcome to the Writing Your Resilience podcast. I am so happy that you are here today because I adore your book — I told you that before I hit the record button. So, for everyone who is watching, this is her book: My Name Means Fire. If you have not read this book, you need to stop what you're doing. Well, maybe listen to this episode first, then stop what you're doing and go buy a copy, because this book is incredible. So, I am so happy to have you here today. Welcome.

Atash Yaghmaian [1:29] Thank you for having us. We are really excited to be here.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [1:33] Well, I always like to give my guests the first chance to tell us about themselves and their books. So, what would you like us to know about you and My Name Means Fire?

Atash Yaghmaian [1:44] I am a therapist, a writer, an activist, and I have this condition called dissociative identity disorder. I came fully out — publicly out — in March last year. So, this March will be a year, which is not that long. Although all my friends and colleagues, and a lot of people in my circle, knew about it, and little by little we started telling more people. But publicly we came out in March, because we were like, okay, the book is coming out, everybody is going to know, so we need to — on Instagram, on Facebook, and in different places — actually come out and talk about it, because we need to get used to talking about it. And that was really scary, but the moment we did it, it just felt like the right thing. All of a sudden, we had this feeling of relief that we don't have to hide anymore, and we can just be ourselves. People like it. Great. They don't like it. Great. But at least we don't have to always bend to make sure other people are comfortable — we deserve to feel comfortable too, by being who we are. And this is what we teach other people: try to be who you are, when you are, where you are, as we are. So that applies to us too.

Coming out really helped us to actually own that. Writing about the idea is a process of self-discovery, so it was the way that we understood what our story actually was, because everything was in bits and pieces — like all trauma survivors experience this. Their stories are in bits and pieces, and it was just a way of organizing ourselves. This book was first written for us, for myself, for my different parts, just to understand: what do you remember? What do I remember? What does this other part remember? And then just making sense of life, really. So, it's truly a collaboration between my parts.

Also, talking about something that is so misunderstood, in a way that people can digest, takes a lot of patience and courage from my parts, because we don't want to trauma dump on people, but we also want people to really understand what it feels like to be someone who has this condition. The feedback we are getting is, "Oh my god, I really get it — thank you so much for explaining it this way, not pathologizing it, and sharing your experience the way it happened to you." So, we are very proud.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [4:29] And you should be. For listeners who don't know what DID is — we're talking about dissociative identity disorder — because you're a clinician in addition to someone who has this diagnosis, how might you explain this to someone who knows nothing about it, so that they understand why you're using the pronoun "we," or how that experience shows up for you?

Atash Yaghmaian [4:53] The way we actually explain it to someone who doesn't have any experience with psychology — and sometimes people don't even know what dissociation is — we make it very simple. We talk about separation or zoning out, or we explain it in ways like: people in elevators are always a little bit dissociated. Or when they're driving for a long time, they know where they're going, but sometimes they're just like, how did I get here? I wasn't even aware of it. We explain dissociation like that, because everyone dissociates.

But dissociative identity disorder is a little bit different, because the dissociation that happens as a child through a lot of trauma — that separation — is really about separation of parts. We believe everybody has parts, right? But people with childhood trauma, their parts separate, and there's a distance between their parts, and sometimes they're not even aware that a part is there. And with more complex trauma, this separation grows farther and farther, to a point where there is a lot of amnesia between parts, so they might not even be aware of it.

That was my experience as well. I wasn't aware of my other parts. I thought, this is it — this is me. I have to be a go-getter; I have to do this. But then I would have amnesia and lose a lot of time, and I couldn't figure out what was happening. There's also very little information out there. It's getting a lot better now, and that is why we wrote this book — to make it better. I didn't understand what was happening, and because there wasn't enough information, I had to figure everything out myself. I felt like, there's something wrong with me — I'm forgetful, I don't know where half of my day went, something is wrong with my brain. I had to become a therapist to understand no, nothing is wrong with my brain. DID is a gift born out of awful, awful experiences — traumas that I could not deal with as a child, kept from me until I was ready. And when you become ready, you start getting flashbacks of memories and you're like, how could that be?

So that's kind of the way we explain it, because we want both DID and non-DID people to understand we're not that different, because we all have parts. Some of our parts have more distance from each other than others, even in non-DID people — like, where did I put my keys? I can't remember, even though a part of them put it somewhere. But nobody thinks about it that way.

For a DID person, it's a little more complex. Each part lives as if they are the only part. So, we become more skillful in things related to our interests — my tango dancer is really good at tango dancing, and I'm not so good at it, but I can do it because it's in the body. Different parts learn things in more elaborate ways and become more skillful in them.

Other people also have parts that experience different desires — like, I really want to be with this partner, I love my partner, and at the same time there's a part of them that's like, I wish I could break up with this person. So, they experience inner conflict in a more obvious way, whereas DID people don't experience conflict quite the same way, because we are so separated — until we write to each other. Then we can see it on a page: oh my god, there's a conflict. I want to go to this yoga teacher training, and my other part wants to do tantra practitioner training, and this other part wants to continue developing our private practice, and this other part just wants to travel and scuba dive. And then we have to figure out: how can we make everyone happy in the system? Because ultimately, that's the goal. If we can create that harmony — inner harmony — and create a place where all parts of us feel validated, accepted, and encouraged to be what they are and what they want to be.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [9:20] I love that definition. You've done such a great job explaining this. As a person who has a diagnosis of complex PTSD and an experience of dissociation — and pretty intense dissociation — I love how you're talking about the fact that we all have parts, whether you consider yourself as having a diagnosis or not. And the more we can connect with those parts, the more we can understand ourselves.

For you, one of the things I'm hearing is that writing is not just about writing this book, but it's a way for you to develop — I'll try out these words, and you can tell me if they're right — maybe internal coherence between your parts? A sense of agreement or consensus around what you plan to do, so that you can address any conflicts happening between your parts. Writing plays this powerful role in your life.

Atash Yaghmaian [10:18] It's the most incredible tool that we've found that actually works, because once we see it on the page — we write a lot with pen and paper, but we also write a lot on our phone because sometimes we don't have paper — when we feel a conflict inside, something intense, I have to write to my parts.

For example, I had to go to this retreat, but I was exhausted. I felt this conflict about saying yes to it and it was so intense. I was like, this is a retreat, I really want to go, these are all women I want to be around — but there was this really huge conflict inside of me and I couldn't say yes and I couldn't say no. People were asking, are you coming? And I just couldn't answer. So, I was like, I have to write to my parts. I wrote: what do you guys think about this retreat? Just hear it. And every part wrote why they want to go, or if they want to go, what they need, and if they don't want to go, what they need. Just by seeing it on paper and feeling heard, everyone was okay going. We got excited. We just needed to hear each other, to hear our concerns.

I suggest this to all my clients, whether they have DID or not — just write to yourself: should I do this? And then see what the answers are. Different parts of you will answer, and people can see it. For us it's essential, but most people don't have to do it — though why not? All the answers are within us anyway. Why not figure out what the different answers are just by writing?

So, for us, it's really important to do this. For any big decision, we have to write to each other, hear each other out, and then we use consensus — not even voting, really, just convincing each other why or why not. If someone is a no, we ask: what do you need? What would make it okay? What would make it a yes? And that creates such incredible self-care.

Most of the time, the way we understand self-care is take a bath, use this shampoo, buy this makeup. But really, self-care for us is hearing each other out, and we've done that through writing this book — because we collaborated with each other. The way we each experienced every story is a little bit different. I remember that thing in the kitchen with my mother one way, and another part of me remembers actually leaving the kitchen and going to the living room. We all have a different piece of the story, but collaborating together is just — finally, we can breathe. We are not alone in this pain; we have each other.

And everyone can connect to what I'm saying, whether they have DID or not, if they try it. I know this because as a clinician. I work with non-DID people all the time, and when we use the system, they're just so much happier. I use what I know to help people. You don't have to have experienced trauma as severe or as complex as I have — the tools still work and apply to everyone.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [13:54] That's a beautiful answer, and I love that exercise that you gave. I do something similar in my own life, and I encourage people to do variations on this exercise. For me personally, every morning I have an uncensored journal time when I write, and especially if I'm experiencing a conflict. The way I experience it is, there's the child part of me and there's a protector part of me — using Internal Family Systems language in a very loose way. I will connect with the mental part of me that just keeps tallying what's happening, write to those parts and say: what is it that you need? Where is the conflict? And I will listen. What I've found is exactly what you're saying — that when I take the time to address the parts of myself that maybe aren't on board with a decision, or are feeling a conflict with where I want to go, or they just don't feel heard and their needs are not being met, my life is so much easier and I feel so much less stress. So yes, anyone can do this, and I 100% agree that it makes your life better.

Atash Yaghmaian [15:58] I totally feel that way. And thank God for psychology — everybody knows they have an inner child, at least that one part. But if they allow themselves to connect to different parts of themselves, they realize there is more. There's more to us than just this individualized person who is very one-sided. Humans, we are not really one-sided. We can tap into different things at the same time, and it's because we have parts. I won't say alters, because that's very specific to DID people — but we have parts.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [16:32] What I love about your book is that you have this way of both telling a gripping story that confronts some horrific things that happened — we're talking about war and revolution, and living in the aftermath of war, which can be just as horrific. People don't think about that; they think about war and then that's it. But then there's the aftermath, in addition to some really intense abuse that happens in the home and in community, and all of the secrets that this young narrator is holding. You have this brilliant way of telling that story and also showing how these parts play a role. I have worked with other writers who have DID, and when I read your book, I was like, oh yes — the way they were writing about it was very similar to how you wrote about it. There were parallels.

But I think there's a brilliant way of saying: this is what happened to me, these are the experiences I had, and these are the ways that I coped or survived. And then we have the house of stone, which creates both this sense of relief — like a breath between things that happen that are really tough — and gives us a framework through which to see all of it. So, if someone hasn't read your book, what would you like to tell them about the story you're telling?

Atash Yaghmaian [18:00] Well, I am telling many stories. I would tell the story of many parts within the same system — the ways we protected each other, really. So, it's a story of protection. It's a story of care. It's a story of this condition, which is an absolutely nonviolent condition. We kind of break ourselves into pieces to hide the trauma from ourselves, and in doing so we are also protecting our abusers, because every day I would wake up not remembering anything and be like, let's go out and play, let's be good. And these people who were hurting me would come to me and say, are you okay? I'm really sorry. And I'd be like, why are you sorry? Everything is okay. We're going to start over. So, it's like starting over every day, not remembering.

So, it's a story of how brilliant this condition really is. It's not something you can learn as an adult and make happen — it really has to develop very young. And a lot of DID people have a place they go to, a dissociative place. Mine turns out to be a forest, because I love trees. I love plants — still, there are so many plants all over my apartment. I love forests. So, it was this secret house in the forest that I would go hide in with my parts. They were my headmates, but I didn't know that as a child. I really thought I was going to this incredible forest where there was this house of stone. So, it's also a story of how brilliant our minds can be in creating what we need.

I worry about kids in general — people who don't use their imaginations. Children, they don't apologize for their imagination. They go wherever they need to go to survive. So, it's a story of my inner world intertwining with my outer world in Iran, which was really scary — because of the war, because of all the abuse, because of everything. It was after the revolution in Iran, and Iran wasn't the same anymore. I remember everyone was happy before the revolution. The first seven years were very different. There were a lot of colors everywhere, and I love colors. And then after the revolution, everybody had to wear black. I love wearing black — I live in New York, there's nothing wrong with that — but forced, everybody had to wear black. Everything got dark. The joy was sucked out of people.

So, it's also a story of what Iranian people went through under this regime, which absolutely cares nothing for the people and only takes the country's money — because we are a very rich country — and brings nothing but violence to this culture. I want people to understand: Iranian people are not their government. They are hostages in their own country, held by a government that will kill them if they ask for freedom. They call it a crime against God. People are being shot. They're shooting protesters. I remember so much of this even then — when everything was changing because people wanted democracy, even when I was seven in 1979, and what they got instead was a dictatorship in the name of God, which has nothing to do with religion.

I'm getting a little distracted because talking about Iran really upsets me, but I hope people who read my book will have some compassion. I hope this is my service to Iran, to Iranian people — by telling my story, telling our story. This is not just my story. There are thousands of people who share this story of despair in the search for freedom. The most natural dream for any human is to be free, and they have not been free.

Everyone deals with lack of freedom in their own ways. For me, because I was a child and I wasn't safe at home — and it wasn't just the streets that were dangerous, where you could get killed, shot, or arrested for very little and taken to jail — my home was dangerous too. So, I had no safe place. So, I created a safe place in my mind, which I didn't know then. And it was absolutely safe: there were trees with faces, there was a volcano that would spit fire at anyone who wanted to hurt me. There was a time when I couldn't tell which world was more real — is the world with butterflies more real, or is the world where there's a hanging man on the street more real? Of course I chose: I think the butterflies are more real. And I went there more and more, becoming more and more dissociated, until they were trying to marry me off. So, I ran away.

When I came to the US and made it here, I was like, okay, I can't live in my head anymore. I have to figure out how to learn English, how to put myself through college, how to get an apartment — how do people even find apartments? I didn't know anything. I was so naive. I had to figure out everything: how do you enroll yourself in college? I didn't know, so I just started attending classes without enrolling, until I got caught and they said, you have to enroll. What is enroll? I had to figure out things that most people are simply taught, that people help them learn. And a lot of people did help me — because anytime I asked, they'd be like, are you serious? You don't know? And I'd say, I'm serious, I don't know. And they would teach me.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [24:20] I do want to talk about Iran and your feelings on it, and what you want all of us to know about what's happening now. And I want listeners to read this book, because I think it serves as a powerful context for people to understand what that experience of the revolution was.

What struck me is that when I was in my 20s, I ended up in Yugoslavia when they were trying to overthrow Milošević. I was just there for a short time — I was on a heavy metal tour, and there's a whole story. But what was surprising to me is that for years before, and I was very young with not a lot of life experience, I had been told that Yugoslavia was one way, and that what the government was doing was what the people were like. And then when I was there, I ended up meeting people who were working to overthrow the government and protesting in the streets. What surprised me is: yes, those things were happening, and what I would call regular life was also happening. Atrocity and what we think of as normal life — just going to the grocery store, trying to go to school and learn — all these things are happening simultaneously, and people have to figure out how to navigate both. How do you walk on the street when it's not safe and anything could happen — which you document in your book, seeing a man you know being hanged in the street — and also figure out how to safely get somewhere and go to school, while all these things are happening?

I think the most beautiful through-line of this book is that this narrator always wanted freedom. She had this massive tenacity and just guts — that's the only word I can think of — and, I 100% agree, a brilliant mind that allowed her to survive what some people would say is unsurvivable, and to navigate and find freedom. I just find that to be the miracle of your story.

Atash Yaghmaian [26:20] Thank you. I remember the word azadi, which means freedom, from the first revolution, from 1979. That word was so important to me. I wanted to understand what it means, and the lack of it was very obvious to me. If you talk to any Iranian person — there, here, anywhere — they will tell you what that word means to them. A lot of people might want security, but for a lot of Iranians, it's freedom. For me and all my parts, it's freedom.

Iranian people are dying in the streets because they want freedom. They resist oppression. They come to the streets with this passion for freedom decade after decade, and they are met with bullets and machetes. But they do not stop, because they know that life without freedom is not a life, and that is not what they deserve. They deserve more, and so they are fighting for it. I wish the world would wake up and help them, because these are brilliant minds being wasted — for what? Because a group of people want to keep all the wealth of the country and care nothing about humanity. And we're going to stay quiet about it and watch? These are beautiful humans fighting for freedom, and it is a fight we should all honor. It's not their thing or our thing — it's everyone's thing. We all need to be free. We all need to honor freedom. We need to help them. We need to amplify their voices. We need to not stay quiet and think only about productivity. There are more important things in the world that make us human, that we need to tap into, and that is our desire to be free.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [28:17] Absolutely. In the world we're in right now, so many things are coming at us at the same time, and I talk to a lot of people who feel helpless and don't know what to do. If people could do one thing to support the Iranian people — listeners of this podcast — what would that one thing be?

Atash Yaghmaian [28:37] One thing is: read books about Iran. Read my book. Read other books about Iran. Listen to all the people and the news coming directly from the people and amplify our voices. Don't close your eyes to what's happening, because sometimes silence is more dangerous than anything else.

When I was being abused, a lot of people watched. They saw it and did nothing. It was very hard to learn later that a lot of people knew and just thought, she's too damaged already, there's no saving her — so they closed their eyes. Their silence was dangerous. Silence sometimes protects the bullies, protects the abusers, protects the oppression. So, ask yourself: who are you protecting? Are you someone who wants to protect the dignity of humanity and the freedom of others and yourself, or are you someone who goes quiet and is okay with protecting oppression? Most people would say, no, I don't want to protect oppression — most humans would say that, unless they are part of it. So why are you silent? Why are you not talking about this? Why are you not reading more about it? Why are you closing your eyes to it?

That is another reason I wrote this book — not only to help people understand dissociative identity disorder and what complex trauma can do to a person, but to create compassion for humanity. Because when we identify with one another, we protect each other. When we don't understand something, we fear it. When we do understand, we want to protect each other. When we understand that there is a way to create inner harmony, so we are less harmful to ourselves and to our parts, we become kinder to other people.

I strongly believe I have become a better human because I've worked through the conflicts with my parts and met all of them with compassion and love. I become a different, kinder, more loving human to everyone else, because I understand that they also have parts. And if I help them understand their parts and become a mediator between their conflicts — if they understand they can mediate, support, and heal themselves — they will become a better friend to me and to the world.

Resilience is also contagious. Trauma lives in the body and can be depleting, but resilience lives in the body too and can spread — once we get out of those narratives: I'm not enough, I'm not good enough, I can't help. Yes, we can. We can help ourselves, and then we can help everyone else. The act of service — not looking for fame, not looking for more money, but asking, how can I help my sisters? How can I help my brothers? How can I help other people? The pleasure that comes from helping others is worth so much more than anything material. When we connect to it, we can help each other, we can heal each other, we can protect each other. And it doesn't matter what country, what borders — those are man-made, they're not real. We all want the same things. We want love. We want to be safe. We want to create friendships and communities. We all want the same things. So why aren't we?

Lisa Cooper Ellison [32:39] I love that. A quote is coming to mind — and I'm going to forget who said it, so listeners, if you know, tell me — but it's something like: when I know your story, I can't help but love you. Reading the stories of people from Iran or from other countries where oppression is happening is one way to learn how to love the world. And if you are paying attention to your own inner story and treating yourself with compassion, that's how you open your heart to be able to receive those other stories.

So, if you're listening and you want to do something: pay attention to your own inner story. Reading My Name Means Fire is a great example of what that might look like. Do that for yourself. And reading Atash's book is also a great way to understand what's happening in Iran, what happened before, and how in some ways it's playing out again. Then you can look for other books that deepen your understanding of these experiences, so that you can be of service to your brothers and sisters across the world by saying yes to freedom for everyone.

Atash Yaghmaian [33:56] Yes, absolutely. And as you're saying that — there was a time when my parts didn't get along and we self-sabotaged a lot. Our system felt like more of a dictatorship. One part was like, I'm the smartest, I'll take care of everything. And even once we started learning about each other, it was still like, oh, you're the weak part, you're scared, you're shy — you're not going to be good enough. I was the part that always took over. I'm Black, I know how to fight, I will protect all my parts. So, it was me ruling my system instead of listening, and there was a lot of disharmony. It did not feel good.

When I learned to step back a little and allow other parts to come forward, I started to see their gifts and what they bring. What does the shy part bring to the system? What do the so-called weak parts bring? There's a part of me that wants to gather and sing songs all the time — great, thank you. Who says that's bad? I thought so at the beginning, because I felt productivity was the only thing that mattered. But I have a part that loves to dance and understands the genius of movement — that we can process hard feelings through movement too, not just through talking and therapy. That's what she brought to the system. So, we became a more democratic system.

And if you can learn that and become that internally, that is how you stand up to oppression externally. When you can stand up to it inside yourself, you will stand up to it in the world. There is no way you will put up with it. Does that make sense?

Lisa Cooper Ellison [35:46] It makes total sense. It really does start with the self — ending internalized violence, the ways we are aggressive towards ourselves, by cultivating deep compassion for the parts we want to push away. I've worked with so many people, and I'll be the first to say that when my therapist first said I had to work with my inner child, I was like, no, not the inner child. I hated the inner child. I had so much anger toward that part, because that's where the hurt lived. I couldn't face that hurt.

Being able to look at the part of yourself you want to push away, the part you might be angry with or that you hate, and learning to love it by asking what it needs — and then, I always tell people, this is the most important part: actually giving it to them.

Atash Yaghmaian [36:38] Yes, exactly — what do they need, and how can I meet that need? And also, it's about not blaming the victim. That's often the easiest thing to do, but it is not productive, it is harmful. Victims need support. They need love. We need to actually hear what they need and help them climb out of the ditch that other people put them in and then blamed them for. Enough is enough. It's not your fault. It was never your fault. I am so sorry I've been blaming you for all these horrible things that other people did.

I've had to say that to my own parts — I genuinely am sorry for not hearing them. I was the one who had the energy and the courage to get us out of the country, and then I had to just ask: what else is there?

Most people who read the book say, good job — wow, really good job. And we feel it too. We're really proud of it, because it was teamwork that made it what it is. If I had written the book alone, it probably wouldn't be as good. But because we wrote it as a team, as a collaboration, hearing each other — that became a model for other people. It turned out really beautiful.

For an artist to truly love their own work is a big deal. We have written a lot of things where we think, I should have worked on that a little more before I released it. But this one, we feel so good about, because we were all in it together. We all let each other talk and write. We didn't delete anyone. We said: whatever you have to say is beautiful. Yes, you're the boy, you're the male part — we're not ashamed of you. You're the lesbian — okay, it's okay, we're not ashamed of you. A lot of people are going to judge you, but we don't judge you. We love you. Thank you for being in our system. Thank you for being the male in our system and bringing the male perspective — that not all men are bad, that there are a lot of good men in this world. Thank you for bringing that. There are so many gifts internally, when you allow yourself to hear them.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [39:02] For anyone who hasn't read the book yet: one of the ways Atash represents her parts is that each one is named after a color — there's Black, Orange, Red — and there are short chapters interspersed throughout the outer life story where we step into this inner world and get to meet these different parts, these different characters.

I want to talk about the craft of writing for a moment, because I just have to say — you have some serious chops. You wrote this so well. And I'm so glad it was a collaborative process, because as a book, there is one consistent writing voice throughout. I never felt lost in your story. I never felt like I didn't know where we were going. I always felt grounded, even though the way you tell the story is very different from other books I've read. And yet I could feel those different emotional tones at different points when a part stepped forward to tell their piece — a slight shift in tone, a very subtle difference in voice, which, if you look carefully, you'll notice. And what was amazing to me — and I think this is once again that genius of what the brain does, of how the system works — is that there was so much love. So much love from these different parts for the narrator living the story out in the outer world, and also just internally. It was a place I felt safe in, and I felt very grateful to be able to witness and be a part of it.

Atash Yaghmaian [40:43] Thank you so much for reading our book, for understanding it, and for wanting to amplify our voice — it's such a gift. Thank you so much.

But one more thing I will say about the brilliance of the DID system is that we don't really understand how it works, but we're all protecting each other, even when we don't understand it. It's a protective mechanism, so you don't get it until later in life. But our purpose was to preserve Red's innocence — that's why she's on the cover of our book. By preserving her innocence, anytime something came at us, different parts showed up and took it, and in doing so we preserved her innocence. And therefore, that innocence still exists in us. They weren't able to damage us. Yes, we got broken and had to put the pieces back together, but our innocence was never destroyed. And that's the thing — even when I read my own story, I think, that is the most incredible thing. I love that.

When I work with DID people, I see the same. In fact, this weekend — tomorrow, actually — I'm going to a DID conference where there will be 500 people like me. Different parts of them, thousands of us. Every single DID person I've ever met has this incredible innocence about them. It's the most beautiful thing. And that's another reason I felt I could write this book, and why I'm not scared anymore to talk about it — because I want to protect these beautiful humans. People try to portray them as scary or violent, when actually this condition is created out of nonviolence. I can't wait for this weekend just to be around these people.

When I was still scared, before I had come out, I went to a DID conference as a therapist only — not as a survivor, just as a therapist, because therapists are welcome to come and learn. And I just watched all these amazing people, their freedom and their courage in telling their stories. Little by little, that helped me come out of my shell and say, yes, I'm a therapist and I also have this condition. And now I'm like, yes, I'm a therapist, I have this condition, and I'm an activist — but they inspired me to get here. So, I hope I can go back and inspire a lot of other people who are terrified of coming out. Not that they have to come out, but just to know that it's possible, and that there is nothing wrong with them. Acknowledge the incredible mind that allowed you to survive, because it worked. You're here. It worked.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [43:46] Absolutely. And you just said something I want to follow up on — you shared at the beginning that it was only last year that you fully came out. If this language doesn't feel right to you, please correct me, but in a lot of neurodiversity communities — and I'm using that broadly, to include trauma, ADHD, autism, a larger group — there's this concept of masking, this way of pretending to be "normal." I'm putting normal in air quotes, because I don't believe in that word. But adhering to the norms of society, performing like, I'm going to pretend I'm like this. And I just want to honor first: that is exhausting.

Atash Yaghmaian [44:28] It is exhausting, and it's unnecessary. Whenever I meet people who are comfortable being who they are — I have friends who are autistic, friends who have ADHD, and I have it too in my own way — and they're comfortable with it, it's just like: you are so amazing. I see the brilliance in every condition. It's just so beautiful. And then people can free themselves from acting "normal," which we don't really understand anyway. What is it? Being like zombies? Being medicated, not feeling anything, just going through the motions — that's normal? No thank you.

I am who I am because that's all I know how to be. And whenever I say it and explain it, no one ever says, oh my god, you sound so weird. They love it. And they share about themselves. It gives them the courage to talk about what they're struggling with and what they're facing. And it's just a beautiful thing.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [45:33] Absolutely. And yet it can be really scary to come out. We all have resilience, and you are incredibly resilient. What did you tap into to feel okay with coming out? What was that for you?

Atash Yaghmaian [45:47] It's been a process. It's not like one day I woke up and said, yes, I'm going to do it. Going slowly is really important — don't rush yourself to come out. Because when you know you're ready, you know you're ready, and then you do it.

Start by coming out to safe people. Maybe that's a therapist, a friend, or a partner. Start there, and then little by little, grow. All my friends and partners knew first. Then I brought it to work, because a lot of my colleagues had noticed — not in terms of a condition, but they noticed my ability to meet people where they are, to shift to meet someone's needs. Because I have different parts that can be this and that and that, right? The more we are connected to ourselves, the more we can show up for other people. When people noticed the gifts I have, I was honest with myself and thought: this gift is my DID. It's actually my DID that allows me to do this.

I say this in my book — people always say, wow, you ran away, you opened a high school, you wrote a book, how did you do all these things? I did it because I have this inner world. I did it because I have DID. Sometimes our disorders are our gifts. They are disorders because they made life unmanageable for a while, but once we understand them and put them back in order, they are no longer disorders — they are totally in order. It takes time. Sometimes what we call disorders are things that had to disperse and get messy to survive, but then we can put them back together. We can. I see it all the time. This is why I love being a therapist — I witness it all the time. People do it all the time, and it is so wonderful to watch and be part of.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [47:57] I absolutely agree. I've watched it too, and that is the miracle of being human and the miracle of doing the kind of work that we do. As we wrap up — there are so many takeaways I got from this book, but I'm really curious: if readers could get one thing from your book, what is your wish for that one thing, that one aha, that one insight?

Atash Yaghmaian [48:23] Internal teamwork can help you have the most beautiful, joyful existence. Learning to be curious about your parts can only add to your life.

Take advantage of your breath. We don't know when our last breath will be — our breaths are numbered. So, use your breath to calm your system, to get centered, to look within, because all the answers are there. And if it's too scary, go and ask for help. But know that there is always a way, and you can find it. If you connect to your breath, if you are curious about yourself, there is always a way — and you can find that way, and you can get through it.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [49:15] I love that answer, and I feel like that's a great place for us to wrap up. So, listeners, once again: you have to get a copy of My Name Means Fire. It is amazing. And what Atash shared today is just a taste of what you'll experience from reading this book. For the writers out there, you're not only going to learn about Iran and about this experience — you're going to learn how to write an incredible story. It may give you some ahas or insights into new ways you could tell your own story. So, if people want to get a copy, connect with you, or learn more about where you'll be, what are the best ways for them to do that?

Atash Yaghmaian [50:01] I'm very active — I have a part that loves Instagram, so we are very active there. That's Blue. Thank you, Blue, for that. The handle is @AYHealingForUs — our initials, Atash Healing. Or they can just search "My Name Means Fire" and they'll find us everywhere. They can find the book everywhere too — in every local bookshop, which I encourage people to buy from, because bookstores have saved my life. I love bookstores. And if that's not accessible for them, it's also available on Barnes & Noble and Amazon. It's everywhere.

I hope people who get the book and read it and connect to it will feel inspired to start writing their own stories — for themselves. Because this book was only ever meant for us, to learn about each other and ourselves internally. And then, when you come from a place of teamwork, it became good enough to put out into the world. So, start there. Be inspired to write about yourself. Connect to your own story through connecting to ours. They can find us everywhere.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [51:08] All the ways to connect with Atash and to buy her book will be in the show notes, so be sure to check those out. And Atash, I just want to say thank you so much one more time for being here, for writing this book, and for sharing your story with all of us. It's been an absolute delight.

Atash Yaghmaian [51:26] Thank you so much as well. I'm really excited and delighted to know you, and I hope we can meet up again.

Lisa Cooper Ellison [51:33] I would love that. Thank you.

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