I started therapy last month as a result of my husband requesting and pushing me to do so. I got lucky; the nearby university had an opening and I grabbed it (they have Master's and PhD students conduct therapy sessions at a reduced cost as part of their requirements for graduation).
I won't get into all the details about why I'm going to therapy but I'll say this.. I've heard that the three biggest stressors in life are (not necessarily in this order): losing a job, moving, and someone close to you dying. In the past couple years, I've hit all three. I have never really had the time or opportunity to deal with all of this when it happened, so now I'm doing so - for my health and for my family's health.
My therapist is a great guy, an Israeli with fantastic English (I'm really impressed). He was assigned to me after I described the issues I'd like to resolve and I truly enjoy our conversations each week. Sometimes there's a concept or word that we have trouble expressing but we get through it. At the end of each session, he almost always has a unique perspective on what I've shared the past hour.
I guess that's the point... sometimes we get so deeply mired in our own lives and minds that we can't dig ourselves out, we can't get an outside perspective on what we've experienced or how someone's decision 35 years ago benefits us now. Let me share...
When I was little (or just before I was born, I don't know), my mom and dad were driving in a car, chatting about how they wanted to raise their children. At that point, they already had two (maybe three) kids, and wanted to make sure that we grew up enjoying Judaism, married Jewish, and remained (at least somewhat) religious. They realized that in order to do so, they needed to act the same way and so they made a conscious decision to become more observant of the laws of Judaism.
Fast forward several decades.
I've made quite a journey through Judaism. I pulled away when I was a teenager (due to my dating a secular Jew), then stopped being religious altogether for about eight months. I hated it. All my weeks starting running together. Nothing seemed special; I felt ordinary. So I went back to keeping the Sabbath and kosher and I've loved it (mostly) ever since. The Sabbath is my weekly vacation and mikveh (the ritual bath - but that's another whole story) allows me to give my kids' souls a fresh, clean start in life (and hopefully won't screw them up too much along the way). I don't always cover my hair, but when I do, I make sure to match my scarves to my outfit in an artistic way.
With my belief in G-d and feelings of spirituality, I have faith that things happen for a reason. I don't know what those reasons are, but I don't need to.
Years ago, when a close family friend passed away suddenly from cancer in his early 40s, I was shaken. The deceased man's brother was a rabbi and he shared a story at the funeral. He explained that our lives are represented by the back of a tapestry. It is made up of knots, this yarn leading to that yarn, colors leading into other colors - none of it makes sense. But... if you were able to look at the FRONT of the tapestry, it would be a gorgeous picture.
The problem is, we don't get to see the front of the picture while we're in this world.
I am not telling you what to feel or to religiously observant, but I had to have some sort of belief that there is a bigger picture. I am simple human being with a good, but limited, brain. I'm simply not capable of seeing why bad things happen, but I know, I believe, that things happen for a reason. Maybe I'm wrong and there are times when it's just sh*tty luck, but I don't think so.
After I relayed all this to my therapist, he asked me if I believed that my mom passed away for a reason. The truth is, when people pass away, when things just suck, people want to understand why it happened. When my mom passed away, I think I also wanted to understand why (I don't remember), but I know that right now, the 'why' doesn't matter as much because it happened. Period. It is what it is.
After talking this through with my therapist, he helped me realize (just by him listening, of course) that if I weren't religious and observant, more so if I weren't spiritual, I would be a lot worse off when dealing with the loss of my mom (and everyone else I've lost). Trust me, that ain't a pretty picture.
What else did he tell me? That 35-37 years ago, when my mom and dad made that decision to raise us as Jewish kids, to give us that support, they also, unknowingly, gave me the spiritual tools to deal with their passing away.
Mind blown.
That's quite a long yarn woven over the course of decades. I am forever grateful to my parents for that tapestry - in my mind's eye, it is gorgeous.
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Intermarriage. The Self-Imposed Holocaust.
I'd like to think that most of my Jewish friends would prefer to marry Jewish and only marry non-Jewish because they feel that their choices are restricted, either by location, availability, or options. Every time I hear about one of my friends or acquaintances dating, getting engaged to, or marrying, a non-Jew, I feel an acute sense of loss for their kids, our Jewish people, and our communal future.
I used to be a Sunday School teacher teaching Judaica and Jewish history at local synagogues and congregations. Currently, I tutor Jewish kids at a local Jewish day school. My mother was a Judaica teacher for decades and my sister taught as well. I have seen how kids are raised and respond within Jewish as well as mixed families. I have even spoken with friends and acquaintances about this issue and gotten their take on it.
[I have been holding off on this blog for a while since this is a very difficult topic for me. Aside from the fact that I was almost guilty of this myself, I have so many friends and family who will be directly affected by this blog. I was asked why I have delayed writing this... I'm not sure that I have a good answer except that it will hurt people I care about. I'd like to think that they already know me well enough to be aware of how I feel about this and other topics and that I'm not afraid of being politically incorrect. This may be true. Regardless, to them I say that people can differ in their convictions and still love each other. I may not understand and/or approve of your life choices, but that doesn't mean I don't care for you. I apologize if this hurts or offends you, but I cannot apologize for my opinion and feelings.]
Despite this intense conflict of feeling, yesterday I reached my breaking point. Perhaps it was a joke, but I didn't find it to be funny. An old male classmate of mine had a Facebook status, "This is the best time of year to be married to a gentile!"
Fantastic. Let's show some PRIDE that we've not just intermarried, but that we are also happy about it, that we have now relegated our next generation to being non-Jewish (with a gentile mother) AND being apathetic about which religion is important in our lives.
I will admit that I am not completely innocent of this travesty. When I was merely dating, I dated non-Jewish guys (two, to be exact). I was not happy about them being non-Jewish, but felt that my choices in the Detroit Jewish community were extremely limited (not an excuse). Even when I dated Jewish guys, I was bothered because, while they insisted that they were interested in being more Jewish, they were never proactive about doing more or even learning about their religion. I dated these guys because I was fighting my Jewish soul and being more Jewish/observant (as I spoke about in a previous blog).
Perhaps hindsight is 20/20. Perhaps I'm only now accepting what I have always felt, believed, and loudly promoted. Being Jewish is fantastic. Being Jewish is a culture, a people, a way of life, a religion. Being Jewish is to be different. It's all of the above. It's everything. While it's not always easy, it is something to be proud of and to fight for. It is not something to minimize or ignore.
Sadly, most American Jews today are "cultural" and nothing more (I have theories as to why the Cultural Jew is the most common, but that's a subject for another blog). They are ignorant of their own religion and history, and, based on that ignorance, assume that Judaism is restrictive and, thus, off-putting. It doesn't help that they don't have exposure to religious Jews who demonstrate that it can be fun and enjoyable. They only hear about the bigoted, obnoxious, ultra-religious Jews who, quite detrimentally, make Judaism seem outdated and anti-women.
Because of that, I have some sympathy for most Jews... to a point. Ignorance is no excuse.
There is no excuse to not know the basics about your own religion; to do your own homework. I start with one argument:
Why not ask questions about your own religion? About your identity? Your history? Who you are? Why deny yourself and your children knowledge?
When someone asks you what it means to be Jewish, you should have an answer.
When you date someone, you should be thinking of your children, grandchildren, and their futures.
Then there are the Jews who are somewhat educated, involve themselves in Jewish activities, Jewish youth groups, participate in educating our next generation, and yet have no problem dating and marrying non-Jewish spouses. Before accepting my full love of Judaism and marrying a religious Israeli, I would have fallen into this category. It's just as detrimental to the Jewish People's future, though perhaps sadder, and I would have had absolutely no explanation for my kids had they asked me, "If Judaism is so important, why did you marry Dad?"
Adolf Hitler felt that Jews were lesser people and had scientists manipulate science to prove his theory. In his endeavors, he ended up murdering at least six million Jews and we have learned NOTHING from this. We have only continued his action with the voluntary dilution of intermarriage.
Even Jewish philanthropist Edgar Bronfman, who fought for Jewish rights and to strengthen Jewish identity among young people, who fought Swiss banks to release huge amounts of monies as restitution to murdered Jews, continued the dilution. He even went so far as to encourage it.
“Intermarriage today can even be an opportunity for a stronger embrace of Jewish identity,” Bronfman wrote in the Jewish Daily Forward in 2010. “Intermarriage is not a calamity but an opportunity for both a Jewish and non-Jewish partner to learn.”
I beg to differ. If education, exposure, and tolerance of different religions and identities were the goal, there are simpler and better ways to accomplish it: joint religious events, seminars, and interfaith gatherings, just to name a few. But again, you should learn about your own religion and identity first before studying others.
Nowhere in science does dilution strengthen anything. Rather, it is the process of making something weaker or less concentrated. Religion is no different.
Yes, there are some overlapping morals and beliefs, but there is a stark difference between Judaism and Christianity (or Judaism and any other religion); a chasm that cannot be bridged. When the parents disagree on the basic tenets of religion, what is the child supposed to believe? If it's not important enough to the father/mother to marry Jewish, why should Judaism be important to the child? Why should the existence of Israel matter? Why would it become anything other than something interesting, yet disconnected and academic... How could it not be merely...
Something "cultural."
I used to be a Sunday School teacher teaching Judaica and Jewish history at local synagogues and congregations. Currently, I tutor Jewish kids at a local Jewish day school. My mother was a Judaica teacher for decades and my sister taught as well. I have seen how kids are raised and respond within Jewish as well as mixed families. I have even spoken with friends and acquaintances about this issue and gotten their take on it.
[I have been holding off on this blog for a while since this is a very difficult topic for me. Aside from the fact that I was almost guilty of this myself, I have so many friends and family who will be directly affected by this blog. I was asked why I have delayed writing this... I'm not sure that I have a good answer except that it will hurt people I care about. I'd like to think that they already know me well enough to be aware of how I feel about this and other topics and that I'm not afraid of being politically incorrect. This may be true. Regardless, to them I say that people can differ in their convictions and still love each other. I may not understand and/or approve of your life choices, but that doesn't mean I don't care for you. I apologize if this hurts or offends you, but I cannot apologize for my opinion and feelings.]
Despite this intense conflict of feeling, yesterday I reached my breaking point. Perhaps it was a joke, but I didn't find it to be funny. An old male classmate of mine had a Facebook status, "This is the best time of year to be married to a gentile!"
Fantastic. Let's show some PRIDE that we've not just intermarried, but that we are also happy about it, that we have now relegated our next generation to being non-Jewish (with a gentile mother) AND being apathetic about which religion is important in our lives.
I will admit that I am not completely innocent of this travesty. When I was merely dating, I dated non-Jewish guys (two, to be exact). I was not happy about them being non-Jewish, but felt that my choices in the Detroit Jewish community were extremely limited (not an excuse). Even when I dated Jewish guys, I was bothered because, while they insisted that they were interested in being more Jewish, they were never proactive about doing more or even learning about their religion. I dated these guys because I was fighting my Jewish soul and being more Jewish/observant (as I spoke about in a previous blog).
Perhaps hindsight is 20/20. Perhaps I'm only now accepting what I have always felt, believed, and loudly promoted. Being Jewish is fantastic. Being Jewish is a culture, a people, a way of life, a religion. Being Jewish is to be different. It's all of the above. It's everything. While it's not always easy, it is something to be proud of and to fight for. It is not something to minimize or ignore.
Sadly, most American Jews today are "cultural" and nothing more (I have theories as to why the Cultural Jew is the most common, but that's a subject for another blog). They are ignorant of their own religion and history, and, based on that ignorance, assume that Judaism is restrictive and, thus, off-putting. It doesn't help that they don't have exposure to religious Jews who demonstrate that it can be fun and enjoyable. They only hear about the bigoted, obnoxious, ultra-religious Jews who, quite detrimentally, make Judaism seem outdated and anti-women.
Because of that, I have some sympathy for most Jews... to a point. Ignorance is no excuse.
There is no excuse to not know the basics about your own religion; to do your own homework. I start with one argument:
Why discard your own religion before knowing anything about it?
Why not ask questions about your own religion? About your identity? Your history? Who you are? Why deny yourself and your children knowledge?
When someone asks you what it means to be Jewish, you should have an answer.
When you date someone, you should be thinking of your children, grandchildren, and their futures.
Then there are the Jews who are somewhat educated, involve themselves in Jewish activities, Jewish youth groups, participate in educating our next generation, and yet have no problem dating and marrying non-Jewish spouses. Before accepting my full love of Judaism and marrying a religious Israeli, I would have fallen into this category. It's just as detrimental to the Jewish People's future, though perhaps sadder, and I would have had absolutely no explanation for my kids had they asked me, "If Judaism is so important, why did you marry Dad?"
Adolf Hitler felt that Jews were lesser people and had scientists manipulate science to prove his theory. In his endeavors, he ended up murdering at least six million Jews and we have learned NOTHING from this. We have only continued his action with the voluntary dilution of intermarriage.
Even Jewish philanthropist Edgar Bronfman, who fought for Jewish rights and to strengthen Jewish identity among young people, who fought Swiss banks to release huge amounts of monies as restitution to murdered Jews, continued the dilution. He even went so far as to encourage it.
“Intermarriage today can even be an opportunity for a stronger embrace of Jewish identity,” Bronfman wrote in the Jewish Daily Forward in 2010. “Intermarriage is not a calamity but an opportunity for both a Jewish and non-Jewish partner to learn.”
I beg to differ. If education, exposure, and tolerance of different religions and identities were the goal, there are simpler and better ways to accomplish it: joint religious events, seminars, and interfaith gatherings, just to name a few. But again, you should learn about your own religion and identity first before studying others.
Nowhere in science does dilution strengthen anything. Rather, it is the process of making something weaker or less concentrated. Religion is no different.
Yes, there are some overlapping morals and beliefs, but there is a stark difference between Judaism and Christianity (or Judaism and any other religion); a chasm that cannot be bridged. When the parents disagree on the basic tenets of religion, what is the child supposed to believe? If it's not important enough to the father/mother to marry Jewish, why should Judaism be important to the child? Why should the existence of Israel matter? Why would it become anything other than something interesting, yet disconnected and academic... How could it not be merely...
Something "cultural."
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
The Freedom of Commitment: Religion
To me, the best, most comforting and loving thing in the world is a hug. It envelops you, holds you close, provides emotional and physical support, and comfort. It makes you relax, feel cared for, loved, and, best of all, you know you are not alone.
This is my view on religion.
When I was younger, there was an eight month period of time when I wasn't religious. I didn't celebrate Shabbos and didn't keep kosher (though I still didn't eat meat and cheese together and didn't eat shellfish). I lived with a non-Jewish girl and did almost whatever I wanted simply because I wanted to see what it was like on the 'other side.' I wanted to see how a majority of Americans lived and what it'd be like to not be restricted by all the rules.
I was expecting to feel freedom and a lightness of responsibility.
What I felt instead was confusion and a loss of structure. One day blended into the next, one week into another, months went by with no sign of division; I didn't know what day it was. Never mind the guilt. I had actually taught myself to ignore it years before. No - the real problem, in addition to the chronological confusion, was my loss of identity.
How did people live like this, doing whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, to whomever they wanted? How did they STOP and give some time to themselves? How did they judge who and what should have the highest priority? How did they decide what, if anything, was more important and bigger than themselves? I had no reason for why I did things except that it felt good. Why not?
What I learned from that period of time was that, just as children need structure in order to blossom, adults need structure and rules as well. The Federal and State governments provide laws in order to protect its citizens; religions are no different (though their rules are based on morality).
Even as I returned to the comforts of observant Judaism, I still fought many of the rules. Despite loving to learn about it, I refused to study it since I then felt that I'd be obligated to follow what I learned (I have a tendency to need to follow logic). For years, it was quite an internal struggle that I suffered. I even recall having a breakdown while hanging out with a former (non-Jewish) boyfriend, in tears because I felt so incredibly torn.
It was physically painful.
My Jewish soul was tugging at me constantly. Only after I accepted that I was Jewish and LOVED being Jewish did the relief finally come. That's not to say that it's easy for me. I still struggle almost daily with some of the rules. But, in general, I have discovered that instead of fierce restrictions and limitations choking me, my religion permits me a certain freedom -- the freedom I had been originally searching for.
Freedom to stop worrying about my calendar.
Freedom to focus on my future rather than my present.
Freedom to permit myself a weekly vacation.
Freedom to recognize a special soul within myself (and, more importantly, others).
Freedom to accept a REASON for everything (even if I don't know what it is).
Freedom to enjoy structure.
Freedom to know that I am not the most important thing in my world.
Freedom to feel that I'm being protected.
Freedom to see the bigger picture of my neighborhood, world, and universe.
Too much freedom can easily be overwhelming and destructive. Routine and discipline have their benefits.
As Albert Einstein said wisely, "[a]ll religions, arts and sciences are branches of the same tree. All these aspirations are directed toward ennobling man's life, lifting it from the sphere of mere physical existence and leading the individual towards freedom."
The structure of my religion has provided me with freedom and a breath of freshness. While my intellectual fight continues and while my emotional struggle goes on, I realize that there's something out there that is smarter than me. I am still myself. I am sassy, argumentative, independent, and colorful. I ask 'why' to many of the rules and beliefs because I need to understand the logic behind laws. I'm not so arrogant to think that I have all the answers, but I feel comforted that Something does.
To me, that's better than a hug.
This is my view on religion.
When I was younger, there was an eight month period of time when I wasn't religious. I didn't celebrate Shabbos and didn't keep kosher (though I still didn't eat meat and cheese together and didn't eat shellfish). I lived with a non-Jewish girl and did almost whatever I wanted simply because I wanted to see what it was like on the 'other side.' I wanted to see how a majority of Americans lived and what it'd be like to not be restricted by all the rules.
I was expecting to feel freedom and a lightness of responsibility.
What I felt instead was confusion and a loss of structure. One day blended into the next, one week into another, months went by with no sign of division; I didn't know what day it was. Never mind the guilt. I had actually taught myself to ignore it years before. No - the real problem, in addition to the chronological confusion, was my loss of identity.
I was just like everyone else (my personal hell)!!
How did people live like this, doing whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted, to whomever they wanted? How did they STOP and give some time to themselves? How did they judge who and what should have the highest priority? How did they decide what, if anything, was more important and bigger than themselves? I had no reason for why I did things except that it felt good. Why not?
What I learned from that period of time was that, just as children need structure in order to blossom, adults need structure and rules as well. The Federal and State governments provide laws in order to protect its citizens; religions are no different (though their rules are based on morality).
Even as I returned to the comforts of observant Judaism, I still fought many of the rules. Despite loving to learn about it, I refused to study it since I then felt that I'd be obligated to follow what I learned (I have a tendency to need to follow logic). For years, it was quite an internal struggle that I suffered. I even recall having a breakdown while hanging out with a former (non-Jewish) boyfriend, in tears because I felt so incredibly torn.
It was physically painful.
My Jewish soul was tugging at me constantly. Only after I accepted that I was Jewish and LOVED being Jewish did the relief finally come. That's not to say that it's easy for me. I still struggle almost daily with some of the rules. But, in general, I have discovered that instead of fierce restrictions and limitations choking me, my religion permits me a certain freedom -- the freedom I had been originally searching for.
Freedom to stop worrying about my calendar.
Freedom to focus on my future rather than my present.
Freedom to permit myself a weekly vacation.
Freedom to recognize a special soul within myself (and, more importantly, others).
Freedom to accept a REASON for everything (even if I don't know what it is).
Freedom to enjoy structure.
Freedom to know that I am not the most important thing in my world.
Freedom to feel that I'm being protected.
Freedom to see the bigger picture of my neighborhood, world, and universe.
Too much freedom can easily be overwhelming and destructive. Routine and discipline have their benefits.
As Albert Einstein said wisely, "[a]ll religions, arts and sciences are branches of the same tree. All these aspirations are directed toward ennobling man's life, lifting it from the sphere of mere physical existence and leading the individual towards freedom."
The structure of my religion has provided me with freedom and a breath of freshness. While my intellectual fight continues and while my emotional struggle goes on, I realize that there's something out there that is smarter than me. I am still myself. I am sassy, argumentative, independent, and colorful. I ask 'why' to many of the rules and beliefs because I need to understand the logic behind laws. I'm not so arrogant to think that I have all the answers, but I feel comforted that Something does.
To me, that's better than a hug.
Monday, June 11, 2012
He's the One.
When they found out I got engaged, several people asked me how I knew that Ariel was the one for me, especially since we have only known each other since December 6, 2011 (when we started chatting on FaceBook). I'll start by saying that although living 6,000 miles (9700km) apart is extremely challenging, it provided us with the opportunity we never would have gotten... to truly learn who the other person is.
Four days after we started talking, I was interested in meeting him. For months and months, we continued talking and realized that we have so many things in common.
It's really easy for me to answer the question, "How did you know?" in my head and heart, but not so easy for me to put it into words for the questioner. Nevertheless, here is my attempt to do so.
Before I met Ariel, I had a checklist with characteristics I was looking for in a guy. I was also pretty much ready and willing to settle (since it was extremely unlikely for me to find the man I was looking for). I had come to the conclusion that there was a certain person out there that I needed, but simply wasn't sure he existed. Before quitting, I prioritized my list of needs (and threw in a few wants), knowing that some were more important, some were less important, and some would have been nice (a "bonus") if I got them but could do without them. People laughed and asked me if I planned on finding just one guy who had everything I was looking for.
But it seems that within six months of my decision to get married, I got lucky enough to find the one man in the world who has met each and every request on my list, and what an amazing man he is (he's also a really good looking guy - icing on the cake)!
He thinks like I do, has a great sense of humor, a lot of patience, and has a big heart. He comes from a big family and they are important to him. His health and fitness is a priority, as is his Judaism. He likes to learn and is chivalrous. He is kind to people, no matter who they are, and works hard. Our style and taste is extremely similar, and we both love to go hiking, camping, reading, and playing/listening to music. He is strong, opinionated, extremely intelligent, thoughtful, and oh, have I mentioned kind?
We both have open minds and interests in trying new things. We both enjoy traveling, learning about new cultures and languages, and are foodies (and drinkies; is that a word?).
I love when he holds my hand without thinking about it. I like that he has his own interests, priorities, and friends. I like that he is a goofball. I like that he accepts things about me even when he doesn't understand them. I appreciate that he encourages me to do things I love, and I love that he surrounds himself with good, quality people.
In some respects, our personalities lean in different directions. I am more practical, he is more of a romantic. He seems to have an easier time focusing than I do (or he fakes it well). I am a uber-planner, he is more spontaneous. We balance each other well.
Most of the time, we communicate well. There are times when we don't, and when we are having trouble sharing or phrasing things quite right. But we both understand the importance of it and keep working at it until we are both (reasonably) happy.
Every relationship takes work, but I don't have to struggle with him. I don't have to explain my love of Judaism to him or what Hebrew/Yiddish/holidays mean. I don't have to make excuses to travel, and I'll get to learn new languages with him. We can listen to, and learn playing, music together. Not only are we on the same page, but we have been reading the same book as well.
Not only do I love the man, but I like him as well, and I believe that is more important.
He makes me want to be a better person, a better attorney, and a better Jew. I want to be his amazing wife and mother to his children. I know he feels the same way because we've discussed everything, both easy and tough.
I look forward to what the future holds for us, but right now, I'm loving the present... and the man, my other half, my b'shert, with whom I get to share it.
Four days after we started talking, I was interested in meeting him. For months and months, we continued talking and realized that we have so many things in common.
It's really easy for me to answer the question, "How did you know?" in my head and heart, but not so easy for me to put it into words for the questioner. Nevertheless, here is my attempt to do so.
Before I met Ariel, I had a checklist with characteristics I was looking for in a guy. I was also pretty much ready and willing to settle (since it was extremely unlikely for me to find the man I was looking for). I had come to the conclusion that there was a certain person out there that I needed, but simply wasn't sure he existed. Before quitting, I prioritized my list of needs (and threw in a few wants), knowing that some were more important, some were less important, and some would have been nice (a "bonus") if I got them but could do without them. People laughed and asked me if I planned on finding just one guy who had everything I was looking for.
But it seems that within six months of my decision to get married, I got lucky enough to find the one man in the world who has met each and every request on my list, and what an amazing man he is (he's also a really good looking guy - icing on the cake)!
He thinks like I do, has a great sense of humor, a lot of patience, and has a big heart. He comes from a big family and they are important to him. His health and fitness is a priority, as is his Judaism. He likes to learn and is chivalrous. He is kind to people, no matter who they are, and works hard. Our style and taste is extremely similar, and we both love to go hiking, camping, reading, and playing/listening to music. He is strong, opinionated, extremely intelligent, thoughtful, and oh, have I mentioned kind?
We both have open minds and interests in trying new things. We both enjoy traveling, learning about new cultures and languages, and are foodies (and drinkies; is that a word?).
I love when he holds my hand without thinking about it. I like that he has his own interests, priorities, and friends. I like that he is a goofball. I like that he accepts things about me even when he doesn't understand them. I appreciate that he encourages me to do things I love, and I love that he surrounds himself with good, quality people.
In some respects, our personalities lean in different directions. I am more practical, he is more of a romantic. He seems to have an easier time focusing than I do (or he fakes it well). I am a uber-planner, he is more spontaneous. We balance each other well.
Most of the time, we communicate well. There are times when we don't, and when we are having trouble sharing or phrasing things quite right. But we both understand the importance of it and keep working at it until we are both (reasonably) happy.
In the end, what it comes down to, is that I don't have to try with him.
Every relationship takes work, but I don't have to struggle with him. I don't have to explain my love of Judaism to him or what Hebrew/Yiddish/holidays mean. I don't have to make excuses to travel, and I'll get to learn new languages with him. We can listen to, and learn playing, music together. Not only are we on the same page, but we have been reading the same book as well.
Not only do I love the man, but I like him as well, and I believe that is more important.
He makes me want to be a better person, a better attorney, and a better Jew. I want to be his amazing wife and mother to his children. I know he feels the same way because we've discussed everything, both easy and tough.
I look forward to what the future holds for us, but right now, I'm loving the present... and the man, my other half, my b'shert, with whom I get to share it.
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