A layoff happens, and all I can think is, did I put my trust in the wrong person? Was I not watching the road? Who was in the driver's seat all this time?
I am eight years old, lying in my parents bed. In another room, my parents are arguing. I drift away feeling this was all my fault. That somehow, I am responsible for the pain and rage around me. That somehow, I have to fix things. That somehow, I am only lovable if I am perfect. It's a heavy, heavy burden to bear. And now I am a mother of four, still bearing this weight.
To so many common expectations, I say: "I would prefer not to."
Some days, I'm like, "Stop the world! I want to get off!" I'd rather power down my iPhone, jump on my bike, and ride as far as I can to the other side of the horizon.
Do Jewish women entrepreneurs need a different kind of support?
“Mommy, next time you daven to Hashem can you please, please, ask for another baby?”
Spending the summer with my grandmother, who was beyond her time, made me reflect upon my own.
