So, I’m not the best storyteller but here goes. 

I come from a conservative household. My da’s grandda was an Orthodox Rabbi. My mother was a first generation American (born to a Shoah survivor). We kept a kosher house and my sister and I grew up in skirts.  When I was in primary school I dreamed about growing up to be a rabbi one day. 

Then I had a a crush in middle school. On a girl. Her name was Michelle. She had a rose tattoo on her foot. I ignore it but start to drift from observing. Stop saying the Shema. Start wearing pants instead of skirts. By the time I graduate middle school, I don’t go to synagogue with my family anymore. 

High school comes. This time it’s not a puppy crush. I fall hard. We both know we have to keep it a secret. We keep up a facade of friendship. Any awkwardness is waved away to onlookers by the explanation our ‘friendship’ had to be kept from our parents. She was from an observant Muslim family and I was Jewish. No one questioned further. We didn’t even get to break up at the end of High School. Her parents had found out she was lesbian and arranged a marriage for her so she ran. Neither her brother nor I get to say goodbye. It wound up being for the best. This way we didn’t have any secrets to betray when the police asked. 

Then there’s University. Freshman year, I’m convinced to go to Hillel- free food. I start attending services with Hillel every once in a while- for the free food. Supposedly. I’m not the best at lying even to myself. 

Sophomore year of University I sign up for Birthright. I start wearing skirts again. I even try to have a boyfriend for a few months (spoilers, it doesn’t work). Standing at the Western Wall in Israel I remember how I felt as a little girl in services. I start attending every Friday night. I join a synagogue back home for the summer break. 

Junior year. I lose the script. I admit to myself that I’m not bi. I really wanted to be bi. I thought I couldn’t be Jewish and a lesbian (spoilers, I’m wrong). I go crying to our Rabbi in Hillel. I want conversion therapy. I wanted to be ‘fixed’. Thank the Lord I had a progressive Rabbi. 

The next meeting he announces our Hillel is a safe space to be LGBT. He sets up a series of text studies to highlight LGBT people within the Torah. He tries his best to show us that we’re, that I’m, not wrong. That you can be authentically Jewish and lesbian also. 

Spring semester, he convinces me to tell my mother. I tell her in tears while we clean up after the first Seder. I was absolutely miserable, still convinced that something was wrong with me. She agreed. The next morning I found out she scheduled weekly therapy appointments for me. She was concerned about me because she knew the statistics. I was to attend every week until I accepted that I was homosexual and loved myself again- no excuses.

That was eight years ago. My mother has met my more serious girlfriends. She nags me to get married, settle down, and adopt a child for her to spoil. Bless my mother. It’s because of her that I can say “I am a Jewish lesbian. What of it?“ 

My Journey With Interfaith

November 2021 has proved to be a patchy one for blogging; the world is slowly opening up and life is getting busier. Amongst the things that have kept me away from the keyboard we have a weekend away and a trip to accident and emergency with a sprained knee. One of the more pleasant distractions involved the Leeds for Leeds interfaith event, where I manned the Paganism stall for the third year,…

View On WordPress

thatwitchybitchandco:

Witchs, pagans, and people of all religions have a responsibility to protect our planet! Please sign to show that people of faith demand meanful climate action!

Cop-26 Multi-Faith Statement - GreenFaith