On Open Houses and Choice in a Foreign Tongue

It is early in the morning. She rests her head against my shoulder, twisting her body around in an attempt to find a comfortable position. I sit as still as I can, knowing she will turn again and again until we finally get there. I’ve learned to be the rock she circles; forever keeping me … Continue reading On Open Houses and Choice in a Foreign Tongue

Mourning my Son with no Name

The flutters intensify every year as we light the last candle. Eight flames burning is the signal; the moment we start counting down the week until our baby’s birthday, three days before his death. This year, my womb contracted wildly with the news of another boy torn from his mother too early… too violently. I held my … Continue reading Mourning my Son with no Name

A Million Shades of Green

I’m like Garfield, just different, she says as she pulls on Freddie Mercury’s orange fur, baiting him. I like lasagna, but I hate Sundays. She laughs as Freddie pounces. I don’t bother disciplining her about the cat again. Their love is wild and free-spirited. Plus, she likes the way he makes her look like a … Continue reading A Million Shades of Green

Doing Something

For 515 days, my sister and I shared my Facebook profile picture, smiling to the world from a little circle above my name. My cover photo was taken that time we went to Jerusalem and she posed with my children on Yoel Solomon Street. 515 days ago I sat down and looked through all my pictures … Continue reading Doing Something

Ceasefire

In between war and peace, there is a space where words like ceasefire float around as though they mean something more than pause. For me, a ceasefire is like a Stage IV cancer diagnosis. You know it’s something you’re going to have to deal with. You just don’t know how long you have to brace … Continue reading Ceasefire

Meet Me Where You Left Me

Watching the news one night, my husband raised the feminist flag. Four women awkwardly crossed their bare legs on the couch. One man, his legs spread wide to accommodate his shrinking masculinity, sat in the center. On our side of the screen, my husband squirmed and called it out. And I rolled my eyes. We … Continue reading Meet Me Where You Left Me

This Temple Speaks for Me

I cannot speak from inside this temple. Broken bodies stumble across the floor as sunlight beats against the windows, demanding the right to shine in this desecrated space. Pages, soaked in the bloodred color that paints my history, rustle in the winds of hatred blowing through these trembling walls. The temple heaves in uncontainable sorrow. … Continue reading This Temple Speaks for Me

The Prison Cells We Hide In

I always struggled to maintain friendships with women. It was easier for me to hang out with men. I knew exactly how to talk to them, how to act around them and was confident in my direct approach. Women scared me. We always seemed to be hurting each other. The idea of a united front, … Continue reading The Prison Cells We Hide In

Uncovered

Orthodox Judaism has a uniform. It varies according to sect and strictness of observance, but it's always there, worn as an identity. As a child, I wore long, mid-calf skirts, sleeves below my elbows and necklines that covered my collarbone. I was lucky I could wear kneesocks, I couldn't stand the feeling of tights, and … Continue reading Uncovered

Misconception

Misconception hides around the corner from me as I navigate through alleys of my heart. Usually, it leaps out just after I pass, falling flat on the broken pavement behind me while I focus on what lies ahead. Sometimes I feel wind move behind me, rustling hairs I've shaved off the back of my neck. … Continue reading Misconception