Frum, Intermarried
Esther Tehillah2011
credit: kevin dooley
At first you are pleased when you see my family from far away, as we sit on the hot sticky bench at the park on Shabbos afternoon. From a distance, our children seem to match up nicely, four and four with their freshly pressed white shirts and Shabbos dresses, dangling tzitzis, knitted yarmulkas flying off at the monkey bars, responding to familiar names.
Good Shabbos, I say, smiling, my loose hair fluttering in an unexpected breeze, my silver sandals showing off my newly painted purple toenails. You nod and quickly hide behind your Tehillim, which you hold tightly with your overworked hands, white knuckles, something not adding up in your thoughts. My bright turquoise pencil skirt not quite what you consider tzniusdik, revealing, besides a tanned calf, interest in color and shape. I did major in visual arts after all, a stain on my shidduch resume, remember?
You peek up when I swing my toddler and baby, and I feel the familiar scanning of my back when I unbuckle the seat belt of the swing. I know you are trying to place me, needing to assess and reassess my type (modern/newly religious/ignorant/all of the above), perhaps judging, feeling sorry, unable to imagine once Jack steps into the scene. His arms sleeved, not by cloth but ink, his hand reaching into his pocket to check his phone, proclaiming: “We have been here a really long time.” We kiss and get ready to leave. Good Shabbos. Louder. Yes, we’re together.
As I round up all the kids, you are too absorbed in your pocketsize Tehillim to return a greeting, you don’t look beyond the tiny sefer. Do not turn around. I won’t either.
I run into you over and over at many of the parallel events of our lives, pick-up times of our school-aged children, brisen, chasunas, Shabbos lunches. Baruch Hashem, Baruch Hashem. You have heard it by now from your friends, children’s teachers, rabbis, rooftops. My husband is not Jewish. We have been married eleven years. Our kids attend an Orthodox day school; we maintain a kosher home and we keep Shabbos. I make kiddush in our house, one day my oldest son might take over. Or not. Not your typical intermarried family with the predictable outcome of a forbidden union but it makes you uncomfortable all the same. I failed the ultimate test. After I ran off from surreal shidduchim and indulged with a man I actually loved, it took me a while to get to a point of self-acceptance. Now I no longer sneak home with a long skirt covering my pants, sucking on breath mints in the early morning.
So many left turns around fences that I came full circle. Almost. Full circle outside the circle. Thank God, but only for you and me. My kids want to have play dates.
“Have they told you yet that you failed the test?” Ari asks me over steaming hot chai, laughing. Easy for him, he is done with Yiddishkeit. He can accept that there is no place for him in the tight confines of halacha and would not trade being gay and who he is for community acceptance. He is not trying to reconcile two opposite worlds and loves but talking to him is so damn refreshing and keeps me grounded. Several people have indeed told me that I failed the test but I still love Yiddishkeit and I want my children to grow up to be comfortable in either world, secular and religious, just in case. I have only recently become comfortable straddling both worlds, but my children are young. I pray, yes, I daven that the choices they will make will be a reflection of what they feel and not what peer pressure dictates. Better off not being in “good shidduchim” league ever? Don’t want them sized up in the name of something so personal as one’s faith. But what if they really feel it?
Still and all, I want to lead a religious life. I still love your lifestyle, your community, your families. And I love Torah. When I bumped into you on 13th Avenue one day, long ago, you didn’t want to stop and chat or listen. Back then, when I didn’t come home one night, because I fell into a sweaty post-sex slumber wrapped in heavily tattooed arms, you thought leaving food out for me as a test would put me in check. It didn’t. When I was in your dining room I tried not to focus on all the books, texts and knowledge, penned and pent up around me, ready to be touched and read and breathed. But it wasn’t my place to learn as I was taught. “No sources!” was the source of my frustration.
I held you hostage on my last Shabbos there, insistently telling you how I felt and you just had that frozen look. Horrified, unknowing, oddly innocent. And you were married with three kids. It made me run for the stairs, fighting nausea after glimpsing your freshly shaven hairline below your turban. “This is just a test!” you screamed. We were both twenty-three. I was so different, I realized. I didn’t want to be impregnated by a man I would not yet love. I couldn’t imagine my love for mitzvos sustaining my marriage enough on its own, I felt starved for a new kind of raw emotion from an unholy place. Traded shabbosdik for Shabbos-dick and left it at that.
When I did return, my cheeks flaming red with shame, I tried to assure you of my new-found commitment. I enrolled the kids in yeshiva. But you were never going to have even a glass of water in my newly toiveled glasses. “It was not always going to be this easy,” you admonished. Just add it to the list of out-of-touch advice. A failed test. We have not talked in so long. Next Shabbos we’ll go to a new park.
In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t even you at the park. Sometimes you all look the same to me.
25 Responses
Beautiful piece – I fully embrace your will to live by your own understandings! It is truly a heart-warming thing to hear you following your own way.
My one and only problem is indeed the last line. The “you” was understood to be an individual throughout the piece – then suddenly at the end all Frum women are slapped together as one big “you” without individual recognition? This is precisely what the Frum people do to all the OTDs and non-Orthodox, and of course “The Goyim” – lump them together and reduce their individualities to a common denominator. It sickens and disgusts me. ALL humans are individuals no matter how similar or dis-similar we may be to others.
Very nice piece! It is interesting and well-written.
I have a few questions that I would like to ask you. You can choose to only answer those that you feel comfortable with answering.
1. How did you meet your husband?
2. How does your husband feel about your observance? Does he mind keeping a kosher home and keeping shabbos?
3. Do you keep any form of taharas hamishpacha? I would assume that it is not necessary to do so when married to a non-Jew.
4. Would it bother you if any of your kids choose not to be observant or not identify as Jewish? How would you feel if one of your boys chooses to intermarry and therefore have kids that are not halachicly Jewish?
5. How does your unique family situation affect your kids? Do they get teased in school about it? Are they embarrassed that their father isn’t Jewish?
Chay-
I just want to say that I never meant to “slap all frum women together” at all, in my last sentence. It was meant to illustrate that sometimes they look the same, meaning it just *appears* that way, *sometimes*, and was mostly meant as a visual reference because everyone’s similar outward appearances can become one big sea of not wanting to be seen as individuals– I do not mean to say that they aren’t individuals and do not mean to lump them together in the way that it offended you.
And don’t call yourself Nobody, we are ALL somebody:) Peace.
Seriously, thank you for reading and your feedback!!
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Thank you, Fence Sitter! To answer your questions briefly:
1. At work in NY. He totally pursued me and I was at a point where I was really over shidduchim.
2. He has mixed feelings. The first half of our marriage I dropped most observance but was miserable. Now he is what I call a good sport about it, he appreciates my spirituality but isn’t crazy about the conformism that comes with most communities. His biggest challenge is living in a kosher home but he eats out a lot to make up for things he misses. We fantasize about a house with two kitchens (although I joke that that would be our Pesach kitchen).
3. We do not. I am not allowed to use the mikvah for this purpose anyway.
4. I like to think it wouldn’t bother me. “Not Jewish” would sting more than “not observant” but I would be the first to understand that sometimes we rediscover and reincarnate in ways others can’t understand. I think all my Jewish guilt already told me to not expect Jewish grandchildren.. luckily, I have a daughter, too, so the pressure is off. I would like my kids to love the lifestyle but not more than themselves and if it clashes with their selves then I hope that we gave them at least a foundation and tools to navigate a path that works.
5. They don’t get teased yet but there are definitely some families who have a problem with us- as expected. Still, they have integrated nicely so far but they are young still.
Esther – thank you for clarifying. I didnt think you meant it in the way I was referring – it just often comes out so easily that when we dont really think – that’s when our true beliefs come to the fore.
And unfortunately – I am indeed a Nobody. I think if I were to die today I wouldnt have more than 15 people (other than direct relatives) show up who actually cared who I was. I actually often think – if I were to simply disappear – how many people would even notice?
I was wondering – how do you work out which Halachos to keep and which to drop? How do/will you explain to your kids when they come home from school claiming that the Torah says you should or shouldnt be doing “x”? Do you have an ongoing relationship with your Frum family (whom I’m guessing do not approve of your marriage)?
Thanks – and all the best to you!
Esther, you sound so interesting, I hope you won’t mind answering a few more questions about your life.
Do you consider food your husband cooks as bishul akum?
You know that the reason the rabbis prohibited bishul akum was to insure the Jews don’t marry non-Jews?
Do you have a rov to whom you ask halchic sha’alos?
If your kids go to a regular frum school, they will get lots of anti-goyim ideas. How do you deal with this?
Chay: I would notice! you don’t know me, but I see your comments on different blogs. If you suddenly disappeared, I’d wonder why you stopped commenting.
This reminds me SO much of a piece I wrote in 1999 about Shabbos in a playground with my frum kids; about longing for my non-Jewish boyfriend. Of course, nobody knows how their own story will end, but mine definitely diverged. It sounds like the perfect ending all your frum friends would want: he converted, we got married, twelve years and two kids later we’re still together and planning aliyah. And yet – and yet – I sometimes can’t help (guiltily) feeling as though I killed the delicious OTHERNESS that drew me to him in the first place.
Curious-
the irony about bishul akum for me is that before our marriage, my husband never cooked for me, (yet I married him!) – I asked a rav and he said as long as I light the pilot (gas stove here) it’s fine (kind of like a lot of kosher restaurants do).. so that might also answer your question regarding asking a rov shailos.
As far as any anti-goyim ideas, the community where we live is faily small and diverse so the school is toned down in that department compared to NY. But my kids have definitely picked up some funny things (i.e. they asked my husband if he has an idol in his closet that he prays to -he is an atheist) but we are raising them very openly and they understand that goyim have different obligations but nothing has been outrageously “anti-goyish” in my opinion. They also know that not all Jews keep or believe everything about the Torah like we do or how they are taught. It’s not a big deal. Yet.
Chay-
I try to not pick and chose but to observe what I can but have learned to differentiate better between chumrah or minhag and actual halacha…
Jennifer-sounds interesting, aaah, the playground scene can be a judgy one in any cultural setting. Was your boyfriend the father of your frum kids? How did he come to convert? Intriguing. Mine jokes that he should be made an honorary Jew since he is living the life defacto…
Beautiful essay, so masterfully written.
In the past some people tried to build their family nest in the frum community despite unusual circumstances (like yours). The example of gays with frum families is one that comes to mind. Unfortunately, the frum community can ostracize and stigmatize the family for being different to such an extreme degree that it becomes damaging to the parents and even more so, the children. I hope you’ll break new frontier by pulling off something highly unusual. You certainly don’t deserve to constantly be punished, and your children shouldn’t be punished, just because you don’t want to “throw out the baby with the bathwater”. Isn’t ‘it the frum community that always argues that you shouldn’t drop Yiddishkeit altogether? Well, in their hypocrisy they make it impossible to keep anything if you don’t want to keep everything. I hope you don’t let them get to you.
nice piece; frum-ness can be a minute to minute dance in our household – my wife grew up atheist, now converted by a rabbi who would not pass muster in orthodox communities. now we keep our version of kosher, shabbos, tzitzis, sukkos, etc.
good luck and thanks for the piece.
“shabbosdik for Shabbos-dick”
Love the authenticity and honesty….
Thank you for echoing my words and indeed my life in many ways.
Please can I communicate with you somehow?
how well written ur so brave i wish i would be able to do whatever i want not what me wife and family wants i really liked it and love ur braveness
im married and want to leave religion anyone want to work toghter with me please inbox me jewishfun2@gmail.com
Thanks to all who read and gave their kind feedback.
Shpitzle- I have been a fan of yours for so long, I feel so honored that you read my little piece and liked. If I have half your spirit, I won’t let them get to me because I am trying to be religious for myself – not anyone else. It can be liberating but lonely.
BT-Shraamel- you can email me at esthertehillah@gmail.com
What a great story, thanks for sharing! Is part of your chosen lifestyle to continue to bear children indefinitely? I’ve always been curious about whether women would choose that out of their own free will. I think numerous families are not necessarily a bad thing since having several siblings definitely has positive effects from a childhood development point of view, but from the mother’s point of view I think spacing the children has benefits as well, and also I think 7 kids for example is very different from 12, so i’m just curious about your point of view on that given that you say you are being observant/frum for yourself, as a woman I’m curious about the laws governing family planning….
Wishing you all the best, and I hope your community will rise to the occasion and be kind to your children as they grow.
Jew by Choice-
I think my fourth was my last, I don’t plan on having any more. As women are anyway not obligated to have children this hasn’t been too much of an issue for me. In the past, I thought I’d have at least 8, he wanted none, so 4 is a good compromise and it probably is all we can really handle to give everyone what they need time/attention and money wise. By the way, all you need is one girl and boy so being frum/observant does not have to mean having children indefinitely.
thank you for the feedback Esther, I am not knowledgeable on halacha for family planning and it’s not the easiest thing to ask people I am not close with. Congrats on your family, 4 sounds like fun.
Fascinating article. It takes a lot of bravery to keep rubbing it in the frum world’s face. Your husband is certainly generous as an atheist paying for jewish day school. I had my two girls with a non-jewish guy but unmarried (my family never met him) and the family are OK about the kids but I do not think that they would ever have accepted him. Do your family accept Jack?
Dear Esther Tehillah,
Thank you for writing this article. Your choices inspire me, and I hope your attitude infects others.
Do I encourage people to marry gentiles? No. As a believing, practicing (trying :)) Jew, I know that intermarriage is not a good choice because generally, intermarrying results in leaving our people. I am galvanized by the idea that one who intermarried could still make so many other good choices.
My sister intermarried. A few times I spoke to her about keeping Shabbos, even partially. I felt her heart told her, “If you strayed so far, what’s the point of keeping anything?” I don’t know for certain, but that was what I picked up. Yet the Rambam says in the Laws of Birchas Cohanim 15:7, “We don’t tell a person who sins continue sinning and don’t do mitzvos”. Your essay conveys this idea convincingly.
Oh, I wish we would all understand this, live this. So I feel I need to eat non-kosher, work on Shabbos, have sex outside the rules. I will be a good Jew otherwise! Being a good Jew means making healthy choices; that is the objective of God’s instructions for living. I might not be able to break one unhealthy habit but I still strive for robust, vigorous living.
The Talmud discusses if someone suspected of stealing is believed when they take an oath. Several commentators explain the reason not to trust a thief’s oath as follows: Many a thief will not have the willpower to return the stolen goods. The person feels like a sinner who can’t repent. His or her negative self image, feeling like a helpless sinner, strips them of their resolve to be good and all barriers fall, even swearing falsely. How sad!
I know this feeling, and probably many others do to. Thank you for the encouragement to be good in every way I can, even when I am not consistent. I will do wrong, but I can still choose life!
Dovid
Dovid- thank you for the encouraging words.
I actually was pretty paralyzed and ditched all observance in the early years as I, too, felt that all was too late. However, I felt very sad and depressed, especially because I felt that I had cut myself off of something that gave my life meaning and strength. My children made me swallow my pride and reconnect and it didn’t feel as awkward as I thought it would, even in the beginning. It also gets easier as I am older and just in general rest more in myself now. But I am very grateful to our local community and especially day school for their support. As they say, it takes a village… In exchange I can accept and put up with certain insecure and or unaccepting people.
Knowing I have my two loves (my man and Torah) make it worth it. Be well.
Esther
STOP trying to fool yourself into thinking your ‘observance ‘ makes up for the fact that u ‘married a GOY ! A person who steals money , white collar crime and such is NOT considered a shomer shabbos, even though he ‘keeps shabbos’. A person who marries out is cut off from the jewish people and does not get jewish kevurah. However, sometimes when a person was brought up non observant they try to be mekarev the goyish husband if there r already children and they wont divorce, this though is for a tinok shenishba which is seems u are certainly not. Someone who marries out , at the very least parents are required to tear kria and sit shiva .I say this strongly as i have lived in several countries and dealt with these issues .u want to be a frum /observant jew, divorce your goyish husband !
We are not talking about marrying a non observant jew, u are married to a non jew. Incidentally , had your ‘husband ‘ wanted to convert to marry u, this is one of the ctiteria for refusing converson, as a person has to want to be jewish for its own sake and not ulterior motives. As for if your children would marry a goy or non observant jew if it would bother u , well u are married to a goy ! U dont want them to marry out than fix your situation !!
Dear “a real jew” – no, you’re not. A real Jew is an areiv, a person who cares about every Jewish person. A Jew doing an aveira is still a Jew, holy and precious to Hakadosh Baruch Hu. You are absolutely the worst stereotype of the type of “erlicher Yid” who gives every Jew a bad name. There are ways to approach with compassion and arms open to teshuvah, as the previous commenter did. And then there are ways to drive away anyone who disagrees with you and make yiddishkeit seem so closed-minded that nobody would want it anyway. Mazel tov – mission accomplished!
I loved your story, because it reminded me so much of my own. What my husband would say, if he were reading this, is that the Am Hashem has been dispersed amongst the nations, the Shechina can rest on anyone, and it is written that before Mashiach comes, Am Yisorel will be led by the Zkeinim of the Sitra Achra…. So, in my opinion, your husband has every chance of being a legitimate “Jew”, and every self righteous “Yid” has every chance of being Amalek… This world is full of deceptions and the truly deceived are those who believe that the acts of their hands make them better than anyone else.
I so enjoyed your beautiful, free-spirited, intelligent story. And I love your ”lichatchila” approach to Jewish law: to perform with intent and not out of habit or communal pressure, which is especially tough when you have children. By the way, I’m definitely a ‘frummie’ who would in no way shape or form judge you or your husband. Everybody is a tzelem elokim, and middot tovot are what matters most in the world.