Sunday, December 03, 2017

When am I no longer faking it?

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I just caught a glimpse of myself in a reflection, in a car window, on my way to the train station.

“Wow,” I thought.  “That sure does look like the real deal.”

What do I mean by the real deal?

Well, you know

Okay, I’ll come out and say it.  A 40-something frum woman, hair covered, a little dumpy, a little boring, pretty content with her quiet life off somewhere in Nowhereville, Israel, following the ways of Hashem.  You’d never know I was only faking it.

Becoming a baalas teshuvah in my early 20s, fitting in was super-important, because if you think about it, I was kind of in freefall.  I’d given up a whole lot – friends, beliefs, even, to some extent, family.  So being accepted was kind of a matter of survival – if I wasn’t accepted, I’d be all alone.

So when did I stop caring?

I don’t know if I ever did, but