Religious life was all I knew. I never considered leaving it behind. Instead, I was determined to reclaim observant Jewish life without it being wielded as a weapon over me. It didn't seem too complicated a mission. Each day, I met religiously observant Jews who were kind and committed.
While my mind found a path forward, my body already ingrained a different one. I was paranoid about observing every detail of halacha. After years of nail-biting, I finally found a way to stop by keeping my nails short and filing every corner into a perfectly round and smooth surface. One Shabbat, I reached for the nail file to rid myself of an uneven nail and felt guilty for a long time. Even confided in my Rabbi who was understanding of coping mechanisms and anxiety and incredibly supportive. It was a relief to feel supported on this journey. I decided God would forgive my occasional indiscretions as long as I tried hard enough.
I didn't fault Orthodox Judaism for the agony it caused me. From my perspective, Father practiced a whole other religion. His was of blood and fury. Mine was of love and community. I didn't feel restricted by Sabbath or kosher laws. Compared to the first 18 years of my life, this path was infinitely more abundant and free.
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Summer before my senior college year, my roommate introduced me to T. She had a mad crush on him, and I saw why. He was cute, attractive, and emotionally connected when he wanted to be. We started hanging out, and I became friends with his family. They were different. Religious but very laid back. It irked me as much as it drew me in. His little sister Sam offered to help me with my math courses and I gladly accepted. T. wasn't often home when I was over. He worked shifts as an EMT on an ambulance. But on the occasion when our paths did cross, it was clear there were sparks. Once, on a holiday Monday, I came by to borrow Alice in Wonderland, and we took an unplanned drive to the beach. It felt very much like a date. Finally, his mom and sister intervened. They said he liked me but was hesitant to ask me out as I was more religious than he was, but that if I wanted to, I should ask him.
We hung out at the park a few nights later, and I brought it up. He said yes, he was into me, and we should date.
Things started off like a dream. We texted often. For our first date, he took me to the range to shoot. I felt powerful and attended to at the same time. On the next date, he gifted me a watch. He planned everything and paid attention to me. We could talk for hours and it felt like it was enough.
We were Shomer negiah. I made clear it was important to me we have no contact before marriage. No kissing, not even hugging or holding hands. I felt good that he respected this even though it was my choice. He never pressured me or even brought it up.
I started eating many Shabbat meals at the Millers. I met their friends, and everyone was thrilled T. and I were dating. It felt good to be wanted. It felt amazing to belong.
Summer’s end was near and Rosh Hashanah was coming. I reserved my seats at the synagogue for this high holiday and planned a meal schedule with friends. I was house-sitting for the person I was living with, taking care of her pet parrots with my friend Sarah staying over. Since the house was empty, T. suggested we meet up after prayers and the meal to hang out and drink.
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