The Home, the Heart, and the Spiritual Reawakening
When I started this blog I said I would share the good, the bad and the ugly on this Journey to healing. I shared a whole lot of the bad and the ugly because, well, that's all there really was. I had to work through the bad, the painful, and the often times gut wrenching in order to find the remarkable, the beautiful, and the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. Sure, there have been times in which that light seemed like it was attached to a freight train hell bent on my imminent destruction. What person who has gone through hell hasn't had that feeling?
One of the most difficult things for me to do was realize that the majority of the work I was doing was futile. I spent years trying to get back the person I used to be, the woman I was before being raped. Accepting that the woman I was no longer existed was excruciating. I had to go through a mourning process. I had to learn who I was now, accept the woman I have become, and forgive myself for the things that happened which were out of my control. I had to let go of the blame I placed on myself after each of the rapes. I had to step outside of the shadow of shame that I resided in for far too long. I had to accept that being raped was not my fault. I had to accept that losing Gabriel was not my fault (OK, I am still working on that one a little). I had to come to a place where I understood that I deserved good things in my life and I deserve to be truly loved for who I am. That place in life, the place of peace and contentment, the place of being comfortable in my own skin, is far sweeter than I ever imagined it would be.
On December 31, 2018, I told you all about Jesse and his amazing 9 year old son. Well, after 8 months together we are still going strong. We are living together and planning the rest of our lives together. I met someone who doesn't try to change me or save me. He doesn't try to beat me down. He doesn't try to make me feel like less than I am in order to feed his ego. He simply wants me to be me. He knows about the rapes and abuse, about Gabriel, PTSD and lupus, and he doesn't judge me for these things. Instead, he embraces me as a survivor and never treats me like I am damaged. So, at first (and, as he would tell you, I still do at times), I immediately thought there must be something wrong with him. There isn't, though. That's just who he is. He is kind, generous with his time and affection, and has the most beautiful spirit and the biggest heart I have ever encountered. He is sweet, wicked smart, hilarious, silly, gentle, and a true calming influence when I am stressed/panicked/or starting to spin out from PTSD. Kissing him makes time stand still and being wrapped up in his arms is my favorite place to be.
I was terrified before our first date. He was the first person I had even thought about going on a date with in 6 years. From the first moment, though, he made me feel safe, secure and at peace. Sure I was nervous as all get out, but who isn't on a first date. Before meeting him I had checked him out on the Megan's Law website to make sure he wasn't a predator, paid a few dollars for an internet background check, and even checked with a co-worker who knew him to make sure I wasn't walking into a history repeating itself (again) situation. Everything checked out. He really was the good man he portrayed himself to be during our many conversations.
Everything about our first date was magic. He was having a rough week, so I took him to the Franklin Institute for their massive video game exhibit. As I watched him play video games with a big smile on his adorable face, he asked me what I wanted to play next. I told him that I wasn't really a gamer, I did this all for him. The look on his face was a priceless mix of shock and wonderment. I walked away from that date knowing that I had just met the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with. It took him a little longer to come to that realization.
The first month and a half had a few bumps in the road. We weren't exclusively seeing each other and he was dating someone else who had little respect for the time he was with me. The time I knew he was seeing her, I was so sick to my stomach I wouldn't be able to eat anything the entire day. Between the stress of that and a wicked throat infection I lost 30 pounds in 3 months. She went away for a week and during that time we spent every possible moment together. That was when things clicked for him. By the end of that month we were exclusively together, I met his parents, his son, and his friends at his synagogue. It was about a month later, as we were all snuggled up together, he said that I would probably think he was crazy, but what would I think about moving in with him. I didn't think he was crazy at all. My heart ached when I wasn't with him and I felt whole when we were together. He felt the exact same way. We are both in our late 30s and didn't feel the need to waste anymore time apart from each other. My only stipulation was that his son was OK with it, which was his stipulation too. Once this amazing little boy gave his blessing, I started moving in.
There has only been one place I have called home in my life. It was the house I grew up in with my parents and sister. Now, though, I have a whole new perspective on the word "home". While the house I grew up in will always be home, my true home is the one Jesse and I continue to build together each day through our relationship. Home truly is where the heart is. My heart is completely intertwined with his, and his with mine. We are a soft place to land for each other. We are the other's safe haven and refuge. We are the missing piece of the other. We take care of each other through sickness and health, good and bad days, happiness and sadness. We get each other in a way neither of us have ever found before. I never expected to find a love like this in my life after everything I have survived. I didn't expect him.
One of the biggest things Jesse has done for me is reawaken my spirit. For a very long time I shut down my spiritual side. God and I had some massive issues with each other. Having gone to Catholic school from kindergarten through my senior year in high school I was taught that you do not question God. No matter what happened to you, good or absolutely horrific, it was all a part of God's plan for you. I started calling bullshit on that when I was about 13 years old. A priest who taught my freshman year religion class told our class that death was punishment for sin. I had just lost my godfather to cancer. In my late teens/early 20s, I talked to a friend who was studying to become a priest about the sexual abuse I endured when I was a child. He asked me if I had asked God to make it stop. When I said that I was a child and questioned his logic, he told me that if I had only asked God for help it would have stopped. The first rape hardened me. My dad's death made me furious. The second rape and subsequent loss of Gabriel made me completely shut down. How am I not supposed to question god's motives here? How am I supposed to just accept this as being a part of God's plan for my life? Instead of continuing to beat my head against the proverbial brick wall, I told God to fuck off and shut down my spiritual side completely. Then Jesse brought Judaism back into my life. Remember that while I was raised in Catholic school, my dad was Jewish and I was raised with many of those traditions too.
After our first date, and knowing what an important part of Jesse's life Judaism is, I started getting daily emails from the website MyJewishLearning.com to learn more. This had a dual benefit: It helped me in my job (I work for an AMAZING Jewish nonprofit social service agency) and it would help me understand Jesse more. When I started asking him questions and told him that I was reading things on the site, he gave me the book Judaism for Dummies. One of the very first things I read was that as Jews we are expected to question God. That one bit of information blew my mind and left me in a puddle of tears. That one sentence put huge cracks in the wall I built up around my spiritual side. The first weekend I went to services with Jesse turned into a very sad and devastating time for the Jewish community: the weekend of October 27, 2018. As we sat in the sanctuary that Saturday morning someone noticed that a township police car had puled into the parking lot. We then found out what had happened in Pittsburgh. Finding out this horrible news surrounded by people who welcomed me, a stranger who was just trying to find out more about Judaism, with wide open arms shattered the wall I had built up. When we got into the car after services I looked at Jesse and thanked him for bringing Judaism back into my life. It was the first time in at least a decade that I truly talked to God, not to mention the first time in about 20 years that religion made sense to me.
With all of this build up it shouldn't come as a shock that I have made the very personal decision to convert to Judaism. It is a process that takes about a year and requires study, involvement in the synagogue community, and doing my best to live Jewishly. While some may think this decision is being forced upon me by Jesse, this couldn't be further from the truth. Jesse told me that he would support any decision I made, whether I wanted to convert or not. I am doing this purely because it is what I know is right for me. I have found a sense of peace and healing in Judaism that I wasn't sure I would ever find. I will still gather with my family on Christmas because it was never about religion for us, it was always about family and the jolly fat man bringing presents in his sleigh with his reindeer. I still want to have a Christmas tree and collect ornaments that tell the story of the life Jesse and I are building together, just like my parents did. I am so very happy with this profound decision that I have made and I hope you can all support me and celebrate with me.
One of the most difficult things for me to do was realize that the majority of the work I was doing was futile. I spent years trying to get back the person I used to be, the woman I was before being raped. Accepting that the woman I was no longer existed was excruciating. I had to go through a mourning process. I had to learn who I was now, accept the woman I have become, and forgive myself for the things that happened which were out of my control. I had to let go of the blame I placed on myself after each of the rapes. I had to step outside of the shadow of shame that I resided in for far too long. I had to accept that being raped was not my fault. I had to accept that losing Gabriel was not my fault (OK, I am still working on that one a little). I had to come to a place where I understood that I deserved good things in my life and I deserve to be truly loved for who I am. That place in life, the place of peace and contentment, the place of being comfortable in my own skin, is far sweeter than I ever imagined it would be.
On December 31, 2018, I told you all about Jesse and his amazing 9 year old son. Well, after 8 months together we are still going strong. We are living together and planning the rest of our lives together. I met someone who doesn't try to change me or save me. He doesn't try to beat me down. He doesn't try to make me feel like less than I am in order to feed his ego. He simply wants me to be me. He knows about the rapes and abuse, about Gabriel, PTSD and lupus, and he doesn't judge me for these things. Instead, he embraces me as a survivor and never treats me like I am damaged. So, at first (and, as he would tell you, I still do at times), I immediately thought there must be something wrong with him. There isn't, though. That's just who he is. He is kind, generous with his time and affection, and has the most beautiful spirit and the biggest heart I have ever encountered. He is sweet, wicked smart, hilarious, silly, gentle, and a true calming influence when I am stressed/panicked/or starting to spin out from PTSD. Kissing him makes time stand still and being wrapped up in his arms is my favorite place to be.
I was terrified before our first date. He was the first person I had even thought about going on a date with in 6 years. From the first moment, though, he made me feel safe, secure and at peace. Sure I was nervous as all get out, but who isn't on a first date. Before meeting him I had checked him out on the Megan's Law website to make sure he wasn't a predator, paid a few dollars for an internet background check, and even checked with a co-worker who knew him to make sure I wasn't walking into a history repeating itself (again) situation. Everything checked out. He really was the good man he portrayed himself to be during our many conversations.
Everything about our first date was magic. He was having a rough week, so I took him to the Franklin Institute for their massive video game exhibit. As I watched him play video games with a big smile on his adorable face, he asked me what I wanted to play next. I told him that I wasn't really a gamer, I did this all for him. The look on his face was a priceless mix of shock and wonderment. I walked away from that date knowing that I had just met the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with. It took him a little longer to come to that realization.
The first month and a half had a few bumps in the road. We weren't exclusively seeing each other and he was dating someone else who had little respect for the time he was with me. The time I knew he was seeing her, I was so sick to my stomach I wouldn't be able to eat anything the entire day. Between the stress of that and a wicked throat infection I lost 30 pounds in 3 months. She went away for a week and during that time we spent every possible moment together. That was when things clicked for him. By the end of that month we were exclusively together, I met his parents, his son, and his friends at his synagogue. It was about a month later, as we were all snuggled up together, he said that I would probably think he was crazy, but what would I think about moving in with him. I didn't think he was crazy at all. My heart ached when I wasn't with him and I felt whole when we were together. He felt the exact same way. We are both in our late 30s and didn't feel the need to waste anymore time apart from each other. My only stipulation was that his son was OK with it, which was his stipulation too. Once this amazing little boy gave his blessing, I started moving in.
There has only been one place I have called home in my life. It was the house I grew up in with my parents and sister. Now, though, I have a whole new perspective on the word "home". While the house I grew up in will always be home, my true home is the one Jesse and I continue to build together each day through our relationship. Home truly is where the heart is. My heart is completely intertwined with his, and his with mine. We are a soft place to land for each other. We are the other's safe haven and refuge. We are the missing piece of the other. We take care of each other through sickness and health, good and bad days, happiness and sadness. We get each other in a way neither of us have ever found before. I never expected to find a love like this in my life after everything I have survived. I didn't expect him.
One of the biggest things Jesse has done for me is reawaken my spirit. For a very long time I shut down my spiritual side. God and I had some massive issues with each other. Having gone to Catholic school from kindergarten through my senior year in high school I was taught that you do not question God. No matter what happened to you, good or absolutely horrific, it was all a part of God's plan for you. I started calling bullshit on that when I was about 13 years old. A priest who taught my freshman year religion class told our class that death was punishment for sin. I had just lost my godfather to cancer. In my late teens/early 20s, I talked to a friend who was studying to become a priest about the sexual abuse I endured when I was a child. He asked me if I had asked God to make it stop. When I said that I was a child and questioned his logic, he told me that if I had only asked God for help it would have stopped. The first rape hardened me. My dad's death made me furious. The second rape and subsequent loss of Gabriel made me completely shut down. How am I not supposed to question god's motives here? How am I supposed to just accept this as being a part of God's plan for my life? Instead of continuing to beat my head against the proverbial brick wall, I told God to fuck off and shut down my spiritual side completely. Then Jesse brought Judaism back into my life. Remember that while I was raised in Catholic school, my dad was Jewish and I was raised with many of those traditions too.
After our first date, and knowing what an important part of Jesse's life Judaism is, I started getting daily emails from the website MyJewishLearning.com to learn more. This had a dual benefit: It helped me in my job (I work for an AMAZING Jewish nonprofit social service agency) and it would help me understand Jesse more. When I started asking him questions and told him that I was reading things on the site, he gave me the book Judaism for Dummies. One of the very first things I read was that as Jews we are expected to question God. That one bit of information blew my mind and left me in a puddle of tears. That one sentence put huge cracks in the wall I built up around my spiritual side. The first weekend I went to services with Jesse turned into a very sad and devastating time for the Jewish community: the weekend of October 27, 2018. As we sat in the sanctuary that Saturday morning someone noticed that a township police car had puled into the parking lot. We then found out what had happened in Pittsburgh. Finding out this horrible news surrounded by people who welcomed me, a stranger who was just trying to find out more about Judaism, with wide open arms shattered the wall I had built up. When we got into the car after services I looked at Jesse and thanked him for bringing Judaism back into my life. It was the first time in at least a decade that I truly talked to God, not to mention the first time in about 20 years that religion made sense to me.
With all of this build up it shouldn't come as a shock that I have made the very personal decision to convert to Judaism. It is a process that takes about a year and requires study, involvement in the synagogue community, and doing my best to live Jewishly. While some may think this decision is being forced upon me by Jesse, this couldn't be further from the truth. Jesse told me that he would support any decision I made, whether I wanted to convert or not. I am doing this purely because it is what I know is right for me. I have found a sense of peace and healing in Judaism that I wasn't sure I would ever find. I will still gather with my family on Christmas because it was never about religion for us, it was always about family and the jolly fat man bringing presents in his sleigh with his reindeer. I still want to have a Christmas tree and collect ornaments that tell the story of the life Jesse and I are building together, just like my parents did. I am so very happy with this profound decision that I have made and I hope you can all support me and celebrate with me.
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