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Her husband was the mashgiach; she felt like the rebellious student

Maybe… maybe I’ll be the one he’ll stick with? Maybe I’ll meet his high standards? Maybe I’ll be good enough?

Fresh and relatable reflections on the parshah and Yamim Tovim, filled with personal anecdotes

He wanted to change their marriage, but her heart had frozen long ago

I’m trying. Very hard. But there’s a thick gray fog that makes me unsure of where I stand

In a machlokes such as this, everyone is wrong