I’ve been thinking a lot in the last week or two about how it could be possible that I came from such horrible people and didn’t turn out the same … Continue reading Grenade.
Tag: identity
Just devastated. That’s all.
Ever have some really bad shit happen and you deal with it as best you can and you’re like, well, that’s horrible, but I need to try to put it … Continue reading Just devastated. That’s all.
It’s not my fault.
Recently, my therapist posed an easy question that I still struggle to answer, and it’s been almost two weeks since she asked it. She had the audacity to ask me…you … Continue reading It’s not my fault.
Unbecoming.
Don’t treat her that way, People told me. How could you act like this? “She’s your mother.” It’s unbecoming to cut you off, They say, Just like it was unbecoming … Continue reading Unbecoming.
Hope: it’s what’s for dinner?
Or perhaps breakfast, local standard time. After two excruciating years, almost to the day, the 48 remaining hostages are set to be coming home. We are waiting, and praying, with … Continue reading Hope: it’s what’s for dinner?
Zionism is not a dirty word.
Antisemitism is at an all-time high, and social and news media outlets have done an excellent job of perpetuating the idea that the war in Gaza is everyone’s problem. In … Continue reading Zionism is not a dirty word.
I am an Existential Beach.
Every so often, a weather front will blow in and there will be a whiff of ocean in the air. A salty breeze, subtle, probably unnoticeable to most people, but … Continue reading I am an Existential Beach.
I may be out of words for the world.
A terrible thing to consider when you’re a writer. But there it is. For years now, I’ve taught Jewish teenagers about the history and hallmarks of Antisemitism, and what to … Continue reading I may be out of words for the world.
Angry.
I fucking hate Mother’s Day. There. I said it. My mother is a toxic narcissist who fucked my brother and I up in more ways than I can count. I’ve … Continue reading Angry.
When the grief runneth over.
Like a toppled wine glass slowly staining the Seder table, sometimes grief spills out and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Sometimes holidays are just friggin’ hard. I … Continue reading When the grief runneth over.
Journeys in the Dark 