(RNS) — Neda Momeni decided she would rather work instead of taking the day off for Eid-al-Fitr, the holiday that marked the end of Ramadan on Friday (March 20).

The California-based nurse practitioner shared in a somber Instagram post that although she had taken off from work for Eid in the past, no part of her wanted to partake in a celebratory observance of the holiday, given the U.S. and Israel’s war in Iran. 

“Nowruz (a 3,000-year-old spring festival celebrating the Persian New Year) and Eid are on the same day, and as a Persian Muslim, I’m not celebrating either one. … The holidays are just too depressing right now, and I’m going back to my usual coping mechanism … which is to volunteer to work.”

“I don’t find any solace in ‘Joy is resistance,’” she added, saying that if joy and celebration are acts of resistance for others, she respects that. “Not for me … It just sounds disingenuous right now.”

Momeni told me she has family in Iran with whom she hasn’t had contact due to the ongoing Internet blackout and war.

Muslims across the U.S. are observing the three days of Eid-al-Fitr with gatherings of congregational prayer, meet-ups and gift exchanges with family and friends — and partaking in caffeine and holiday meals after 30 days of fasting and intense prayer. But for many, particularly those with family in Iran who have suffered tremendous loss and/or are struggling to hear from family, the 30 days of Ramadan and the observance of Eid has been a time of mixed feelings. Some wonder how to even convey the myriad emotions, or if those who have no personal stake at play can understand what it feels like to be Shi’a or a Persian Muslim right now.

I spoke with Batul Tofighi, a lawyer based in Michigan whose entire family, except for her husband and children and her mother and sister, are living in Tehran. “I honestly don’t know how my family is,” she said. “One of my cousins messaged me saying, ‘The situation here is very bad. Please pray for us.’” Tofighi sends daily messages to her family, but they don’t get checked due to the ongoing blackout.

According to a recent Reuters/Ipsos poll, only 1 in 4 Americans approve of the U.S. war in Iran. And after three weeks of war with Iran, plus recent strikes on Venezuela, Syria and Nigeria, about half of Americans, including 1 in 4 Republicans, believe President Donald Trump is “too willing to use military force.” With gas prices soaring, bombs dropping across the Middle East and the killing of 150 children in an elementary school strike in Tehran (which the U.S. has claimed was a mistake), grief, worry, anger and outrage have gripped more than just Muslim communities.

Thousands of Iranians in Iran and across the world celebrated the Feb. 28 death of Iran’s leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, especially following weeks of his regime’s brutal crackdown on protesters and an internet blackout after a fall of the Iranian rial currency. But for others, and especially after the recent announcement of Khamenei’s son as his successor, the feelings are more emotional and complicated.

Sina Toossi, a senior fellow at the Center for International Policy, told NPR that after the assassination of Khamenei, “It’s his supporters who have taken to the streets in Tehran and other places in large numbers. And, you know, we haven’t seen this kind of uprising situation or protest situation get ignited again.” 

Toossi said the problem is that in the West, Iran is often reduced to one of two things: caricatures of Tehran’s elite class and exiles who say war will bring a regime change. However, a third area exists: Those who wanted an end to the regime without outside military intervention.

And when it came to Iran’s supreme leader, Tofighi told me that to disregard the love many Iranians have for Khamenei is to do a great disservice to the full, complex picture of Iran and Shi’a Muslims around the world who have ties to the country. Iran’s government is a product of the revolution and a product of — for better or for worse — the self determination of the Iranian people, Tofighi said. “What a lot of Americans fail to truly (understand) is that there is a lot of support for their government because it is their government. They elected it. They have policy disagreements, disagreements with leadership, but this is their government.”

“I’m not saying there aren’t issues,” she added. “There are. Iran is so pluralistic with so many experiences. There’s this thing in Iran where any taxi ride is a political conversation. ‘I love Ayatollah Khamenei. I hate that guy.’ And it’s everything in between.” 

And with Shi’a Muslims’ reverence for Imam Hussain and his martyrdom during the battle of Karbala in Iraq, the killing of Khamenei in the month of Ramadan has also elevated him to martyr status for many Shi’as, while deepening their love for him.

“The Ayatollah Khamenei (gave) a lot of dignity to Iranians. Iranians have this understanding that the world is viewing them problematically,” Tofighi said. “Many Iranians looked to him and his courage and his ability to articulately and politically astutely name the players. He looked at the world with a moral view and spoke about justice. That creates a lot of love for that person.”

“Can you imagine if that was your religious leader? That’s my guy. I’m on his team. His Islamic team,” she said. And then, in trying to better articulate her heavy feelings, Tofighi pulled up a long message shared by a fellow Iranian in Farsi on Instagram and translated a line for me: “I have this weird feeling. Something quietly has gathered around my neck, and it’s affecting my breath. In the heart of America, with almost a thousand miles of distance between me and my home, I feel like an orphan.”

(Dilshad D. Ali is a freelance journalist. The views expressed in this commentary do not necessarily reflect those of RNS.)