Identity&Belonging

Cliquez ici pour la version française sous les photos A few nights ago, a sudden, sharp explosion jolted me—and, I suspect, everyone else—awake. When the relative Manhattan silence returned, I drifted back to sleep. Somewhere between asleep and awake, my brain slipped into a kind of lucid dream and answered a question I had been asking myself for days: What would my first post from the United States be about? The answer was surprisingly simple. I am in the United States, and

From childhood pen pals to cross-cultural marriage, a deeply personal reflection on travel, living abroad, and the emotional difference between finding a place to stay and truly belonging. The seeds of “elsewhere” were planted by my father—or perhaps by the fairies above my crib. ^_^ He spent his life in the navy and came home every few months with stories from far-off ports with magical names...

👉 Read Part 1 here: Part 1 The Rabbi Who Changed My Israeli Life After my in-laws finished explaining the situation, the rabbi turned to me with a discreet and gentle smile. “Is it true?” he asked. “Everything they’ve just said — is it correct? Do you truly want to convert?” I nodded yes. He did not ask why. Instead, he moved on to more casual questions. He asked where I was from, whether this was my first time in Israel, where I was studying the language, and how I had met

So, it turns out I’m a liar. To you, dear reader—but mostly to myself. Not an earth-shattering lie, nothing scandalous… just the realization that I’m not quite who I thought I was. After a great exchange with friends (and if you haven’t read it yet, see Zero Gods, Four Voices: Exploring Jewish Atheist and Secular Identity), a little red flag emerged.

For me, being Jewish is, above all, about being part of a community—specifically, the secular community. It took me a while to feel comfortable with my new Jewish identity. I often felt judged—or at least imagined I was being judged. On the topic of religion, I probably knew more than many Israelis who had grown up secular Jews. But knowledge wasn’t the point. I still felt a nagging need to prove myself—even if I wasn't quite sure who I was trying to convince, or if any

Three journeys, three memoirs, and one shared destination. Discover why you don't need a 'revelation' to join the tribe

When I was five, my mother invited a nun into our home for “the talk.” I don’t know where she got the idea from. I was an active child and all I wanted was to be climbing our one tree or bouncing on the sofa. Alas, my mother made me sit and listen to this woman she introduced as Nun Something. I wasn’t thrilled. Her long gray dress, strange white cape, and the way she stood with her hands clasped over her stomach didn’t help. My mother stood by the doorway, watching nervousl

I was born in a small village on France’s Atlantic coast. My father insisted that my name be short, simple, and easy to pronounce worldwide — and, most importantly, shaped by his own life experience, free of any ties, religious or otherwise. He chose Claire, from clarus in Latin, meaning bright and clear. My mother agreed. “Claire” was classic and neutral. August 1989 — The last picture before I left their home for good, posing with my little cousins. That was the final