IRAN:I wish Iran's president would respect gays, writes Amirin Tehran, but I'm not holding my breath and he can't change my existence
"In Iran, we don't have homosexuals like in your country . . . In Iran, we do not have this phenomenon. I don't know who's told you that we have it." - President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad
I'm one of those people Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad says don't exist. I'm a 25-year-old Iranian, and I'm gay.
I live in Tehran with my parents and younger brother and am studying to be a computer software engineer. I've known that I was different from my brother and other boys for as long as I can remember.
I was born in 1982, two years after the start of the Iran-Iraq War, and when I was growing up, most boys loved to play with toy guns. I liked painting, and playing with dolls. My brother preferred to play with the other boys, so I was lonely.
I was 16 when I first realised that I was sexually attracted to some of the boys in my high school classes. I had no idea what I could do with that feeling. All I knew about homosexuals were the jokes and negative stories that people told about them.
I thought a homosexual was a man who sexually abused children - until I saw the word "homosexual" in an English encyclopedia and found a definition of myself.
After that, I started searching the internet for information about homosexuality. Eventually I came across two Iranian websites where I could communicate with other gays. I was 17. At first, I didn't want to give anyone my e-mail address because I was afraid that I could be abused or that my parents might find out, or that people on the site could be government spies. But I finally decided to exchange e-mails with one person, and after corresponding, we spoke on the phone. I'll never forget the first time I heard the voice of another gay man. We arranged to meet at the home of a friend of his, and the three of us talked for hours. I felt so comfortable with them. The next day I learned that the friend was interested in me. His name was Omid, and we became boyfriends.
I also became interested in the gay social movement that started in 2000. Around that time, society became more open under president Khatami's reformist government. The internet became common, and everybody started talking about issues they couldn't even think about before.
Until then, the gay world had been underground and secret. Under the Islamic Republic, gays could face the death penalty; they could also lose their jobs and family support. Meetings and parties took place only in the most trusted private homes.
Heterosexuals were almost never seen at these gatherings. Even fellow gays were only slowly accepted. Most older gays were married and even had children, and their family and friends had no idea of their sexuality.
There were a few gathering places for outcast homosexuals in Tehran, people who couldn't hide their sexuality and had lost their jobs, or whose families had disowned them, and who had turned to selling sex for money. Those places were always being attacked by the paramilitaries.
My generation was the first to start coming out. I decided to come out when I was 20. I thought that if I just talked to my parents about it, they would accept my reasoning. I was totally wrong. Their reaction was horrible. They started to restrict me - I couldn't use the phone or invite any of my friends over, and they cut back on financial support. Part of their reaction was religious; part was their concern that I couldn't survive as a homosexual in Iran. They were also ashamed to tell the rest of the family and wanted to see me married to a woman.
We argued constantly; they insisted that I wasn't gay, that I only thought I was. It took me years to calm them down, but over time, they lost any hope of changing me and started to change themselves. Now they accept I'm gay, but they're not happy about it.
Meanwhile, the gay community has worked to educate people via websites and dialogue with friends and family. But we've found the most effective way of changing people's minds is coming out. When people see us as reasonable humans, their negative views of homosexuality are shattered. I can honestly say there's been a change in the way Iranians view us. Gay life isn't as underground as it used to be. We have gay parties with heterosexual guests - and even our parents! We have places where we can congregate. Many more homosexuals are willing to come out these days. Activists estimate that 0.5 per cent of the Iranian population is homosexual, bisexual or transsexual.
But Ahmadinejad's comments about gays didn't surprise us. What else could he say? We stone homosexuals in Iran because that's what God wants? It was a joke, but he gave the only answer he could.
I wish our president could learn to respect gays. But I'm not holding my breath. Ahmadinejad can't change the fact that I exist, whatever he says.
Amir is an activist in Tehran whose name is being withheld for his safety. -