When I’m Ready

hasidic women

When I’m ready
I’ll tell you about how the warmth and love in my childhood was an expertly designed veil to cover the ugliness that lurked precariously close to the surface throughout my younger years.

When I’m ready
I’ll talk about how being a chassidishe girl prevented me from even whispering about repeated sexual abuse for three very long years, and how it’s affected every single relationship I’ve had in my life.

When I’m ready
I’ll write a post about the two hours I spent with my husband before marrying him, and why arranged marriages in the velt I come from are nothing but forced.

When I’m ready
I’ll try my best to explain why mikva ladies who saw the bruises on my body remained silent – month after month, year after year – and how I only fuelled their complacency.

When I’m ready
I’ll remember the very worst day of my life when I chose to leave my children behind in order that I could live.

When I’m ready
I’ll praise the kindness of relative strangers and the hope that comes out of the darkest places in a person’s soul.

I’m ready now
To say that I’m not angry. To say that I don’t hate where I come from. To say that I’m picking up the multiply trampled pieces of my life and really, truly making something of myself. To make a better mother for her children.

To focus on the positive, because the negative would be all-consuming.

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7 responses to “When I’m Ready

    • Respectfully:
      Are you serious?
      Did you skip over the entire post?
      Where is your heart?

      You should never know from such pain and and horror in your life!

      Next time think before you post a comment!

    • It’s interesting that you come from such a place of absolute judgement without having walked even an inch in my shoes.

      I guess you’re right – staying alive is definitely for my own benefit. I just thought my children would prefer a living mother than a dead one.

  1. A courageous post, c.

    >When I’m ready
    I’ll try my best to explain why mikve ladies who saw the bruises on my body remained silent – month after month, year after year – and how I only fuelled their complacency.

    When you’re ready . . .. Did your doctors ever see your bruises? i.e, did the secular/medical system also fail you?

  2. Pingback: A Week of Change | My Derech, On and Off·

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