Okay... ready to spill.
Well, that didn't take long, did it?
It's no secret I've been having a rough time lately. I've gotten to that stage where one realizes that the closet won't be available forever.
Eventually you've got to make a decision, as painful as it is, and go for it. Leap of faith.
That's something that difficult to realize in any situation, with any family.
And with a religious one... even more so.
Marriage is considered something holy, the ultimate. Man and woman joined together properly is considered a "sanctification of Gods name", and sex, when done "properly" and for the sake of creating offspring is supposedly the highest form of worship. It's big. It's encouraged. Every Jewish mother wants grandchildren and her kids married.
Both my mother and grandmother were wed at age 19. My parents met when my mother was 17. My age.
It's really scary.
This is the age when people start making comments about what you're going to do with your life.
Dad's been making some comments about how he hopes I'll get married, supposedly in an attempt to put me "back on track," back to the world and values he thinks (correctly) that I may be abandoning slightly. He keeps talking about "my future".
Mom giggles whenever her friends tell her about boys my age, making little comments here and there. This is the age when they start talking matchmaking.
Despite the obvious stress, I've been pushing it aside and gently ignoring it.
Friday I started talking with Dad about "that day" when I'll get my own place and move out. I want to move to Tel-Aviv, be near my friends, my crowd. My life. I apparently have savings put away for just that day... at age 21. Perfect. Right when I'm scheduled to finish my army service. Mom hears us and decided to, as always, butt in and make her (ancient and biased) opinion known to all. She wants me to wait till I find a nice man to marry, pitch in with him, and only then buy a home (and have lots of babies, that's a given).
Together with that, Debbie started talking about how I never go out with boys (i.e. dates), and how it's obviously my own choice. When I do hang out with guys, they're gay, and thus I have to carefully watch the kind of girls I end up hanging out with...!
It's getting hard to hide. Sometimes I feel like I'm going to explode.
I thought carefully about telling Debbie and about telling Ilene. I'm weighing my options carefully.
Last night, Yuval came to pick Nathaniel up from the next town over. They stopped by my driveway at 2:00 AM to come see me. Nati came over to hug me, and I... crashed. I broke down crying. I didn't care that the car was full of people. I suddenly felt like I could let it all out. I was safe. Same with Yuval.
I love them, and I'm so lucky to have them.
It's no secret I've been having a rough time lately. I've gotten to that stage where one realizes that the closet won't be available forever.
Eventually you've got to make a decision, as painful as it is, and go for it. Leap of faith.
That's something that difficult to realize in any situation, with any family.
And with a religious one... even more so.
Marriage is considered something holy, the ultimate. Man and woman joined together properly is considered a "sanctification of Gods name", and sex, when done "properly" and for the sake of creating offspring is supposedly the highest form of worship. It's big. It's encouraged. Every Jewish mother wants grandchildren and her kids married.
Both my mother and grandmother were wed at age 19. My parents met when my mother was 17. My age.
It's really scary.
This is the age when people start making comments about what you're going to do with your life.
Dad's been making some comments about how he hopes I'll get married, supposedly in an attempt to put me "back on track," back to the world and values he thinks (correctly) that I may be abandoning slightly. He keeps talking about "my future".
Mom giggles whenever her friends tell her about boys my age, making little comments here and there. This is the age when they start talking matchmaking.
Despite the obvious stress, I've been pushing it aside and gently ignoring it.
Friday I started talking with Dad about "that day" when I'll get my own place and move out. I want to move to Tel-Aviv, be near my friends, my crowd. My life. I apparently have savings put away for just that day... at age 21. Perfect. Right when I'm scheduled to finish my army service. Mom hears us and decided to, as always, butt in and make her (ancient and biased) opinion known to all. She wants me to wait till I find a nice man to marry, pitch in with him, and only then buy a home (and have lots of babies, that's a given).
Together with that, Debbie started talking about how I never go out with boys (i.e. dates), and how it's obviously my own choice. When I do hang out with guys, they're gay, and thus I have to carefully watch the kind of girls I end up hanging out with...!
It's getting hard to hide. Sometimes I feel like I'm going to explode.
I thought carefully about telling Debbie and about telling Ilene. I'm weighing my options carefully.
Last night, Yuval came to pick Nathaniel up from the next town over. They stopped by my driveway at 2:00 AM to come see me. Nati came over to hug me, and I... crashed. I broke down crying. I didn't care that the car was full of people. I suddenly felt like I could let it all out. I was safe. Same with Yuval.
I love them, and I'm so lucky to have them.