: Jessica Shahriari Nicely
: Wylie O'Sullivan
: Baba's Daughter Memoirs of a Persian-American Girl
: Unhooked Books
: 9781936268658
: 1
: CHF 8.30
:
: Biographien, Autobiographien
: English
: 160
: DRM
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
When Jessica Shahriari Nicely stepped onstage in the Miss USA pageant, she was a young woman who projected poise and confidence to the world. This image, however, masked the pain and anguish of growing up in a turbulent home ruled by an alcoholic, abusive father. Even early on, Jessica knew that life with her Iranian father was not typical, nor was it normal for a mother to abandon her family. And yet normalcy was something this girl yearned for, something that spurred her to dream and create a detailed vision for her future-a vision that became her lifeline. In these pages, Jessica bravely tells her story. She recounts a childhood marked by loss and punctuated by physical violence, emotional abuse, and shocking neglect. She describes letdowns from helping professionals and rays of hope from extended family members and friends. You'll learn how she developed the fortitude and incredible spirit to not only endure incredible suffering in her home but to emerge a happy, productive adult. At its core, this is a story of resilience. Shahriari Nicely defies the odds by graduating from university, competing in the Miss USA pageant, and going on to create a healthy family of her own. Today, she works with abused and neglected children through her nonprofit, Winged Hope.

Chapter 1

Daddy isn’t here to read this story today. He can’t give his account, or counter all the negative with all that he did right. And so I will do it for him. Number one, he stuck around when my “mom” didn’t and he stayed long enough to teach my sister and me a lot of good qualities. He often told me he loved me—”I love you, Jes-SEE-ka,” that’s how he said my name. He made sure we always lived in a safe, beautiful home, in a safe, beautiful neighborhood. We were never once hungry and we were always clean and well dressed. Daddy ensured that my sister and I got college educations. He taught us to be empathetic and giving. He taught us to always use good manners. He passed along an immense love for animals—we always had pets, usually cats. Our first cat, gray and fluffy and sweet, was named Mouse. I have had cats pretty much ever since. Daddy taught us to be strong in the face of adversity, even when that adversity came at his hand. He did a lot of things wrong, but Daddy also did a lot for my sister and me, and for what he gave us, both the good and the bad, I will be forever grateful.

It took me a long time to forgive my father, but for the most part, I have. And while that has been one of the most difficult things I’ve done, it’s also, really, been the most important, because it’s allowed me to move past my terrible childhood and forward into my life today. I suppose a big part of forgiveness is understanding: If we can understand where someone comes from—the hardships they’ve endured, the pain they carry—then we can imagine why they might have gone on to inflict pain on other people. It’s so often cyclical. That doesn’t make it okay by any means. But it makes it possible to comprehend, which is the beginning of forgiveness. So I’ll go back even further than my childhood and tell you some of Daddy’s story, which began in Tehran, the capital of Iran.

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When you think of the Middle East, you probably think of camels and deserts. It’s partially true in Daddy’s case—his family really did have a camel when he was growing up—but there is a lot more greenery in the Iranian desert than you’d think. I’m told that Tehran, coincidentally, looks an awful lot like Phoenix, Arizona, where I’ve lived all my adult years.

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Daddy was the first of five children born to a colonel in the Iranian Air Force and my sweet grandmother, Parisa, who stayed home to care for the children. They were quite an affluent, prominent family; in fact, my gra