We are first man and woman. We have created ourselves from the ribs of non-believers. We have no original sin to dictate our morals, no code passed down for generations. The string we hang from frays with every step towards the edge of this puppet stage. And this step, this leap away from tradition, this will cut the cord.
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
My previous post touched on the journey my family has been on together. Although we are currently on the same page, my husband and I took different paths and followed forks in the road that sometimes seemed like they would never meet. After the birth of our son, I felt so disconnected from Judaism and lost in … Continue reading Sometimes, I Cry Alone in the Night
I debated writing this post...I thought that maybe I shouldn’t stir any trouble...that if I did say something, I would only be hurting myself more. But I have to write how I feel and I have to put it out there where it will be seen. This is who I am; this is how I … Continue reading Someone Called the Rabbi on Me…
I have worn my face behind something other than my skin for so long I don’t know if I can recognize my reflection. At first, I wore the way I felt outside my heart. I didn’t know not to do that. I didn’t know that hearts exposed make people feel uncomfortable. I learned to hide … Continue reading Unmasked