Sometimes, not being frum is such a struggle.

Walk downtown Friday night feeling free and young and in control of my life.

I’ll eat my delicious bacon sandwich on a Saturday. Spend Saturday night feeling guilty.

Spend Sunday rationalizing. Actually rationalizing because a higher power that cares I personally eat pork is not a higher power at all.

See a frum person on the subway on Monday and feel jealous of their piousness.

Kick myself on Tuesday because maybe internally they’re struggling, too.

Want to tell my frum colleague on Wednesday about my real life. Apologize on Wednesday night for taking up time in a busy day.

Break my dry week on Thursday. The day before a job interview. Of course.





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