04/24/2026
Today, on this 111th Armenian Genocide Memorial day, I arrived in Yerevan and was immediately greeted with all the deep complexities awaiting my return.
The relief for finally make it. The collapse of travel exhaustion. The overwhelming joy of catching a glimpse of Ararat winking at me from behind the clouds-and- the equally overwhelming sense of grief for not being able to see this majestic mountain from the other side as my ancestors did for thousands of years.
Itās the ever present anticipation of being beckoned west. west. 300 miles further west to my familyās small farming village, Tadem, in a region I am in such close proximity to now-and but also- itās the deep heartache of knowing that despite the ever magnetizing pull, visiting the actual village remains just out of reach due to the closed borders and long standing occupation.
Itās remembering the 1.5 million Armenians whose lives were taken, long with all their stories, songs, hopes, dreams and dialects. -and- itās honoring my great grandparents who survived as young orphaned children, sent to America by arranged marriage to carry on the line.
Itās the weight of being passed down an abundance of generational trauma with family disfunction often beyond repair, instead of inheriting our grandparents beloved fruit trees and village home.
Itās the swell of emotions getting all tangled up in me being here now with my own child, after refusing to let go of the few wispy threads of cultural connection that remained, and fortifying the hell out of them, in hopes of breaking the cycle of assimilation instead.
itās both pride & pain. ever present but rarely given the opportunity to be processed or spoken out loud.
Itās never quite fitting into an either/or place. and 100% about being deeply connected to my armmad (roots) while living into the fullness of my q***r, mixed, existing way outside traditional gender roles, both/andness of it all ā„ļø
āØTomorrow we make our way to Goris, further south than Iāve been before. So hereās to opening my heart & spirit for whatever the ancestors have in store š§æ
ps, spring is in full bloom and I wholeheartedly plan on stopping to greet every flower and sip from every pulpulak I meetšø
also, this giant monument way up at the top of the city is the badass, sword wielding Mother Armenia.
