Watched Zootopia 2 with my daughters and absolutely broke down. Seeing exiled characters finally return home after the truth came out — it hit too close to home.
Kids' movies have a way of sneaking the deepest truths past your defenses. My girls were laughing. I was trying to hold it together. Because the story on screen wasn't fiction for me — it was autobiography.
There's a specific kind of grief that comes with exile. You don't lose your country all at once. You lose it in layers — the food that doesn't taste the same, the holidays that feel hollow, the language your kids understand but don't speak back to you in.
My family left Iran because staying meant death or silence. Millions of Iranians made the same calculation. We scattered across the world — LA, Toronto, London, Sydney — and built lives in places that weren't ours. We did well. We built companies, raised families, celebrated milestones. But there's always a piece missing.
The Zootopia sequel nailed it. Characters who were forced out, who built new identities, who convinced themselves they'd moved on — until the moment they could go back. And then everything broke open.
I think about what happens when Iran opens up every single day. Not the geopolitics. Not the investment thesis. The personal part. Walking through Tehran with my daughters. Showing them where their grandmother grew up. Eating actual tahdig that doesn't come from a restaurant on Westwood Boulevard.
The movie ends with the exiled characters coming home to a place that's changed. That's the part people don't talk about. Home won't be what you remember. The Iran my parents left doesn't exist anymore. The Iran that emerges will be something new — built by the people who stayed and the people who come back.
My daughters will grow up knowing both versions. The Iran of their grandparents' stories and the Iran they'll visit themselves. That's the homecoming I'm working toward — not a return to the past, but a bridge to something better.
A kids' movie about animated animals shouldn't make a grown man cry in a theater. But when the story is yours, it does.