Skip to main content

When I got married at age 26, I changed my name in the masthead of Cosmopolitan even before it was official so the issue that hit newsstands after my August wedding would reflect this new and improved version of me. I was no longer Atoosa Behnegar, the kid at home no one noticed or cared about…this background character of my family and school communities so who desperately wanted to be seen and cherished. I was finally seen and cherished by this boy who put me above everything else.


But wait, let’s back track.

When I first met him at 23, I didn’t think we could possibly have a future simply based on his last name. Rubenstein. Atoosa Rubenstein? I just couldn’t see it. I was born a Shiite Muslim and immigrated to the US from Iran. If I married him, I would be identified as Jewish for the rest of my life. It didn’t bother me, it just felt like false advertising. But honestly? I was 23 and living the dream in NYC. Surely this guy wouldn’t be The One anyway – I mean, I wasn’t searching for a husband, I just wanted a side kick for Tasti-D-Lite runs and watching 90210. But as luck would have it, just a few years later, I would become Atoosa Rubenstein. And it didn’t feel weird at all. I was proud…thrilled…all good things.

There was one hiccup.

I didn’t get along with his family. The reasons don’t really matter. They didn’t feel they could be themselves around me…and frankly, they were right. It was a mismatch. The real mismatch had nothing to do with religion, but they did want to hide the fact that I wasn’t Jewish from his religious grandmother who cared very much if her only grandson married a goy. They relied on this grandmother for approval (and other things). They didn’t want her to know about me or our upcoming wedding….but OBVIOUSLY, she ultimately she found out. Now that I’m around the age his parents were back then, it’s kind of funny to think of people my age lying but perhaps it’s funny imagining myself lying to anyone…much the less my family. But I certainly was a liar back then. And you know what they say: You attract the energy you vibrate so in retrospect I guess it makes perfect sense.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

"My parents, brother, and I left Iran in 1980, shortly after the revolution. After a brief stay in Italy, we packed all our belongings once again and headed west to the exotic and the unknown: Vancouver. We had recently been accepted as landed immigrants, meaning Canada graciously opened its doors and we gratefully accepted; we arrived at Vancouver International Airport on my 10th birthday, three suitcases and one sewing machine in tow. After respectful but intense questioning at immigration, we were dropped off at a hotel on Robson Street, which was then still a couple years shy of becoming the fashionable tourist hub it is today. We were jetlagged, culture shocked, and hungry, so that first night, my father and brother courageously ventured out into the wild in search of provisions. I fell asleep before they returned. The next morning, I woke up at 5 a.m. and ravenously feasted on a cold Quarter Pounder with cheese and limp French fries that had been left by my beds...
Post a Comment
Read more
Stacey was a nurse so Kurt knew she would be able to give him a pretty good idea of how critical it was. On the other hand her knowledge of medical jargon could make her words seem foreign to Kurt. “He’s sustained two injuries. The first one was right on impact, his brain was shaken around pretty badly. It might have even rotated and perhaps nerve fibers were stretched and veins and arteries might have torn too. The second one is an open wound where the skull broke. The brain is exposed in that area. He was probably hit by some kind of sharp object during the collision.” Stacey unsuccessfully tried to disguise a horrifying yelp that she let out. “It's possible the area around the wound is undamaged. He might be facing long-term disabilities. He’s lost a lot of blood and his blood pressure has really dropped from the trauma. He’s really weakened by the blood loss. Plus there’s the loss of oxygen to the brain. The damage may be catastrophic. And then there’s infection…” “When w...
Post a Comment
Read more
In 1980 a former classmate wrote me a letter that stated that he was fine and the class was doing find.  
Post a Comment
Read more