I didn’t build this company from privilege — I built it from grit, from longing, and from the quiet strength I learned watching my mother raise me on her own. It was the two of us against the world for a long time. We moved countries, crossed cultures, and rebuilt our lives more than once. I grew up between Tehran, Dubai, and London — always learning how to adapt, how to listen, how to belong everywhere and nowhere at once. That upbringing shaped me. Being the child of a single mother taught me resilience, self-reliance, resourcefulness, and a deep empathy for those whose voices are often overlooked. I learned early that survival is an art form — and storytelling is one of the few places where truth can breathe.

My path wasn’t linear. I studied chemistry, earned a master’s at UCL, worked hard, and hid parts of myself along the way. But the call to perform never left. After training at Sylvia Young, the Royal Court, National Youth Theatre, and the Stella Adler Art of Acting Conservatory, I chose to bet on myself fully — leaving home, moving to Los Angeles alone, and building a creative life brick by brick.

Diaspora House was born from that journey — from the spaces in between cultures, identities, and homes. From grief and courage. From loving deeply and losing deeply. From the belief that art can hold the parts of us life can’t. Here, we tell stories that aren’t afraid of complexity. Stories that hold power to account. Stories that honor memory, migration, womanhood, and the beautiful, uncomfortable truths we carry.

I am the daughter of a woman who never gave up. I am a product of the diaspora, of resilience, of reinvention. And through this company, I hope to build a home for others like me — artists who don’t fit one mold, who come from layered worlds, who are ready to shift the narrative by telling their own.