This is not my beautiful life...

When I was a child, I often dreamed of what my future would hold. I liked to imagine all the fabulous things I would do with my adult life. The possibilities were endless! I played out my fantasies of being a famous singer or actress on the stage. Then, there were a few unusual goals which I doubt anyone else really shared.
For example: How many of you decided that you would grow up to become a Southern Belle on a Plantation? Oh yes, I did. My childhood home was a white colonial with black shutters and a wrap around front porch. I was convinced it looked like a Southern Plantation circa Tara. I put on my best hats and long skirts, grabbed an umbrella as a parasol and chatted with people in my best Southern drawl. It was a sad day when I learned that I couldn't major in Belle Etiquette or get a B.A. in Plantation Management.

The one constant thread throughout my childhood dreams was falling in love, getting married and having a family. I was way more preoccupied with it than any of my little friends. I had every detail planned, down to my wedding dress. I could close my eyes and see my handsome husband; about 6 feet tall, dark hair, dark eyes, blindingly white teeth. We would meet when I was 24, date for a bit and marry at 26. We'd have two years of wedded bliss before finding out we were pregnant when I was 28. I would have a boy and then a girl a year later.

Funny thing happened on my way to 39 years of age...NONE OF THIS HAPPENED. I am fine with the fact that the plantation never materialized but every day that passes, I become more distraught over not finding a man with whom I could share my life and make these dreams come true.

From everything I heard and saw about the way life works, I'd assumed that we were just supposed to go to school, study, find something we're good at as a profession and the other stuff would just take care of itself. My tall, dark, beautiful man would come find me, sweep me off of my feet and make me his wife. Wasn't that how it was going to happen? I watched it happen to a few of my friends as we left college and struck out on our own. Surely I had to be next?

I found a career and even started to make a pretty good living by the age of 26, but no husband. I'd moved to several different major U.S. cities and was actually a sought-after radio personality by the age of 28, but no pregnancy. Still, I was undaunted. I was ok with the idea that I would have this family a few years later than I'd originally imagined. It was even better that I'd be a fabulous, successful radio personality first, allowing my future husband to meet me and fall madly in love with me when I was at the top of my game! Not to mention the possibility of becoming that power couple everyone secretly envied and admired at our social gatherings.

When I look back and think about it, I know that the fantasies of fame, fortune and petticoats were a supplement to the dream of my fabulous life. The main ingredient was always a family. I never needed to prove myself in the entertainment industry or business world. I didn't have to have a high paying job or my own show. The only thing I was certain I wanted and needed was a family even if I didn't express that on a constant basis. Unfortunately, as I got older the desire to have a family of my own would only grow stronger. As the family into which I was born began to disintegrate I felt more and more desperate to build a family of my own. Again, this has not happened.

My lovely friends all mean well when they try to help with stock phrases like, "Just wait, you'll meet someone. It will happen for you." Then there are the ones that make be want to punch them in the face like: "You pick the wrong men" or
"You're not putting yourself out there." I think these statements upset me so much because they blame me for my situation. Now, I realize that I am responsible for my own life. However, to place my current single status squarely on my shoulders is unfair. Ok, I'll give you that I have picked the wrong men a few times. Who hasn't? But I have been out there dammit! (I just happen to be taking a break from out there right now.)

Now I must do the unthinkable and face the fact that it may never happen for me. I have not found someone who loves me as I love him and I am quickly nearing the age at which I will no longer be able to have children (biologically). I have been trying everything I can think of to ease myself into this solitary life and still be a productive member of society. That's not exactly working out so well. These days I'm prone to crying jags that leave me exhausted and hopeless. The many walls I have carefully constructed over the years are starting to crack and wear down and I'm starting to reveal the true depth of my fear and pain. I am horribly vulnerable after pretending to be so strong for so many years. And I am alone. Utterly alone.

Good Jew, Bad Jew

I converted from Christianity to Judaism. Officially, I became a Jew on April 18, 2006. However, I began living as a Jew long before that.
When you convert to Judaism you must commit yourself to a great deal of reading, studying and attendance of classes. Furthermore, you promise to begin living life as a Jew immediately. If you are converting Orthodox, you pledge to keep Kosher and obey all 613 commandments or "Mitzvot" in the bible. As a Conservative Jew the rules are slightly less strict and converting into the Reform branch of Judaism gives the greatest amount of leeway. Very few Reform Jews observe the laws of Kashrut (keeping Kosher).
I decided rather early in my conversion process that I would not keep Kosher. While I could observe most of the dietary restrictions, I looked at my life and thought that it would be a logistical nightmare! I was renting and could not afford to separate my meats and dairy, nor did I have the room to keep two sets of plates and flatware. I have learned that there are ways to do it without too much upheaval and I have plenty of Orthodox friends who seem to manage just fine.
I must admit -- of all the things I must and must not do since becoming a Jew -- the keeping Kosher thing nags at me the most. In fact, I think about being an Orthodox Jew all the time. Much to the dismay of my Hazzan and Jewish friends!

I used to live in a small enclave of Maryland with many Orthodox Jews. There was an Orthodox synagogue just a few blocks away and so many families purchased homes in my neighborhood in order to obey the commandments and walk to shul on the sabbath. I saw these families -- dressed in their modest clothing and black hats -- walking back and forth each Saturday. I find their devotion so inspiring.
I have longed since I was a child to marry and have a family but found it a lot harder to actually accomplish. I can't help but to think that since it is highly encouraged in the Jewish faith that everyone marry and procreate, I could finally find a husband and settle down if I were to devote myself to the stricter denomination.

There is a deeper issue of being a "Bad Jew" by not keeping Kosher or strictly observing all 613 Mitzvot. In a way, I feel as though I am a meat-eating vegetarian. I'm afraid that I have never truly committed to the Jewish faith. The worst part is, I know that I wouldn't feel this way if I had been born a Jew.
Converts are treated with the utmost respect in Judaism. However, among the different denominations, there is a great deal of dischord where converts are concerned. In fact, according to the Orthodox, I am NOT a Jew at all. I will only be Jewish when I convert under the close scrutiny of an Orthodox rabbi, commit to keep Kosher and keep all 613 mitzvot -- no matter how difficult that would be in this century. (Hello? Animal sacrifice? I think not!) Because mine was a reform conversion, I am not a suitable marriage partner to Orthodox or even many Conservative Jews! I even have to wonder if my right to return to Israel will be honored, should I decide to go to the Homeland.

Like the decision to convert itself, I believe I will just have to live with the idea of keeping Kosher or being Orthodox in my head and let it marinate a while. As with everything else in this life, I will find my way.