The email had arrived that morning from Rivky, a woman who was like a sister to me. In the past few months, though, there had been silence between us. When I first saw Rivky’s name in my inbox, I felt dread. I knew why she had written and what she wanted to say to me….
On a Tuesday in July 2007, I learned that the sun is a star. A friend of mine, formerly Hasidic, told me the secret. She informed me that the heavens look nothing like we think. I said, “Huh?” “Look,” she said reasonably, “I swear. It explains it here, in this incredible astronomy book. The sun…
I just started working with the Forward on a new, bimonthly column called InsideOut. Penned by Judy Brown, the essays are wonderfully written pieces about life as a Hasidic woman and about Judy’s very personal process of leaving the community. My work will appear alongside her pieces every two weeks — each month, one article…
I remember the first time I tried on jeans. I was at camp in Israel, and I’d found a pair in some store. My friends urged me to try them on, and I did, prancing around the room, admiring myself from all angles in the corner mirror, glowing from their compliments. Eventually I slid off…
I was certainly wearing pantyhose. It was just that they were wet, and this is what caused the confusion. To the young Hasid passing the yard where I sat, the damp Lycra, transparent in the glinting sun, looked like my nude legs sprawled over the edge of the pop-up pool, bare as a careless whore….
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