One might assume this to be an occupational hazard, and to that they would be correct. I am a daily hazard to myself and any surrounding observers. People often become casualties of my awkward stumbling existence.
Ever since I was a babe, my earliest memories were of my questioning confusion.
As far back as I can remember, I've felt out of place. My childhood never seemed like my own. My family were ultra-Orthodox practicing Jews which made me the same.
I had "peyus" that wrapped around my ears twice. What are "peyus" you may ask?
If you've ever observed the ultra-religious sects of Judaism, the men often have long, grown-out sideburns dangling from their temples. In most cases, they are curled.These are referred to as "peyus". The biblical meaning behind them was that when the Hebrews were enslaved in Egypt, the Egyptian people would shave their sideburns past the temple, as many non-Jewish peoples had in history. Because of this, the Hebrews - who later became the Jews - would grow out their sideburns in a way of nationalistic pride. In turn, it has continued through today. Religious Jews without "peyus" will still not shave their sideburns past a certain point.
Now, my "peyus" weren't curled professionally like most the sets you see out there, but mine wrapped twice around my ears. I wore a rather large yarmulka (a traditional Jewish head covering, similar to a "beanie".) and was taught to pray 3 times a day. I wore "tzitzit" underneath all of my shirts. "Tzitzit" if you don't know refers to a four-cornered garment with tied strings in each of the four corners. The tied chords are tied a certain way in order to equal a Judaic calculation of 613. The relevance of that number is equal to the 613 "Mitzvos" or good deeds of the Bible. The garment is meant to remind those wearing of their observance and prayer to The Lord.
Given the description above, you can understand that I was a walking advertisement for Judaism. Anywhere we went, people knew who we were. At the very least, people knew we were Jewish. That was always a governing theme amongst my surrounding community. We were taught in school to wear our Jewish identity with pride and to feel a part of the "Chosen People".
People definitely knew we thought we were the "Chosen People".
I didn't want to be part of the "Chosen People". I didn't want to wear my "tzitzit". I DEFINITELY did not want to wear my "tzitzit". That was a daily argument in my house as a youngster.
Now, it seems so trivial, but at the time I worried that I would have to wear them my whole life and wanted to break free for good. I didn't feel like I should be arguing about these things. It didn't make any sense to me. Why should I have to wear a yarmulka if I'm thinking about taking it off every second that it sits on my head?
Sure the idea of all things that were "Kosher" seemed swell and all, but "Kosher" didn't equal Nabisco or Oreos as a kid. For those who don't know, "Kosher" or one's "Kashrut" relates to the Jewish diet. Certain things like the combination of meat and dairy are Not Kosher across the board. Foods like Oreos may have Kosher ingredients, but if not supervised by a man of the cloth, they're deemed Not Kosher. Oreos are now, in fact, Kosher, but were not for most of my childhood. We had imposter Oreos made by Kosher brands, but they weren't Oreos. There were so many foods that I wanted to try as a kid. The idea of a cheeseburger, of McDonalds, of Oreos - it fueled my curiosity.
It never made any sense to me why this was my life.
I was familiar with the age old adage that "Life isn't Perfect", but I still felt out of place. Why was I learning all day about a religion I didn't want to learn about? Why was I forced into dietary restrictions that I so strongly opposed?
How is this my life?
I would ask myself that question constantly.
I dealt with many other issues growing up including my impending sexual orientation as a big ol' queen. With all of that and my other insecurities, I always viewed my environment separately. It seemed like a choice to observe the religious traditions and I wanted to flee them. I fantasized throughout my entire childhood of leaving the fray.
I hoped - endlessly.
After years and years of that puzzling and restrictive environment, I've found myself lost in the world. I stumble through everything unsure of what normal is. I ask myself constantly: Where am I? and How did I get here?
Everything still seems strange to me because the secular world was never embraced as home growing up, while the Orthodox world of fundamental religion never felt inviting to me.
So, here I am: Asking questions, flailing about, and Eating Oreos.
Thoughts or Opinions?