“The joy I once felt when in the classroom has been replaced by a dread for each new day in school, due to the chutzpah”

We All Struggle with Something [Diverging Serial / Issue 969]

I’m really enjoying the new serial, Diverging, about a girl with autism. I was never officially diagnosed with autism (I never tried to get a diagnosis), but I acknowledge I have a lot of the “symptoms” of high-functioning autism like masking, obsessively studying topics I get really into, being overly sensitive, and sensory issues.

I was super shy as a kid and was bullied and suffered socially. I was socially awkward and didn’t know how to make friends, and unfortunately, no adult noticed, and I suffered throughout my school years. But, interestingly, sometime toward the end of 12th grade I read an article in Family First on how to make and keep friends, and it felt like someone had turned on the light in my brain! I used so much of what I learned in that article and after high school I never had issues making friends or in social circles!

Although other factors played a role in this as well (such as no longer being around my childhood bullies), that article was a huge piece of the puzzle. It’s so sad in a way to think of how much I suffered socially in school and how a few pointers could have gone a long way in helping me — but better late than never!

One thing I think about often is how everyone in the world has personality quirks and middos issues to work on, but it’s the people with autistic traits who end up getting a diagnosis for their issues. Think about it — is there an official diagnosis for someone who is too controlling, too giving, puts too much effort into their job and ignores their family? Yes, we might call them “people pleasers,” “workaholics,” “control freaks,” and “abusive,” but there’s no official clinical diagnosis. But overly sensitive, overly intellectual, overly socially unaware — for that, you can get a clinical diagnosis.

When I thought about this, I realized that one of the biggest things that exacerbates autistic traits is the hyperawareness, sensitivity, and shame that comes hand in hand with it. It’s that super awareness that life is painful and something is off with them that leads autistic people to seek a label and diagnosis. But that sometimes causes even more shame and pain than they felt before they received the diagnosis they were looking for.

It’s this realization — that we’re all struggling with our personality in this world on some level — that took an edge off the shame. Additionally, the things that cause me so many issues have benefits, too (like Meira realizing that she was socially off, but that she was smart, which is true for most autistic people), and I try to find ways I can channel my personality for the good of my family and community.

And the fact that some people struggle more with their personality and some less? With that, DBT helped me come to a good place. Yes, I have personality issues to work on that are bigger than most people’s and my life circumstances (such as the bullying I went through), the way I was nurtured, and the way society is structured played a big role in the starting point I ended up in. Basically, I’m where Hashem placed me and what I do with it is up to me, but there’s no shame in how I got there.

I can create friendships with people who respect me and educate others how to live with more sensitivity and self-awareness, which is where I shine, and I could help others like me grow up healthier.

Thank you, Meira, for beginning this discussion on neurodiversity and high-functioning autism. I look forward to reading the serial further!

Anonymous

Consequences of Enmeshment [Real Life / Issue 968]

I was very excited to read the story “Fault Lines” about a woman who improved her marriage after realizing her husband’s uncharacteristic behavior was due to issues with his mother. As someone struggling with a husband who is enmeshed with his mother, it was so validating to read about someone else going through something similar. So much of this story resonated with me and my personal journey.

This is such an important topic, and I was so happy that you brought it up in your magazine, as I’m sure there are many women in this painful situation. However, as I reached the end of the article, I felt a bit deflated. I’m so happy for the writer that her husband was able to turn around and change his behavior after just one conversation.

Most men who are enmeshed with their mothers for so many years find it very difficult to separate and end the unhealthy dynamic, and often also suffer collateral damage from not having had a healthy relationship with their mother (think unmet needs, inability to regulate emotions, low self-esteem, and feeling threatened when their wife voices opinions, among many other painful difficulties).

I wanted to acknowledge the pain of those of us women who are struggling in this situation without the fairy tale ending of our husbands being able to change so fast. I want to acknowledge and share the pain of supporting your husband through that constant battle to separate from his unhealthy relationships and empathize with the aching loneliness of never fully occupying his mind. For those wives who have listened to and understood their husbands struggles, have supported and nurtured his wounded inner child, but still live with the consequences of his enmeshment with his mother, you’re not alone. I hear you and see you.

A Wife Who Understands

We Must Act Against It [Words Unspoken / Issue 968]

As I read about Charna, a veteran teacher burnt out by the chutzpah of this generation of students, tears filled my eyes. This could have been written about me. I, too, have been in chinuch for over 40 years in different capacities, ranging from teaching to administration and from Pre-1A through high school. It has been my passion, my calling, my life. The time when I briefly left to work in an office didn’t last more than a few weeks. Chinuch was as vital to me as oxygen.

Recently, we relocated, and I found a new job teaching in the local high school. After putting in hours of preparation, searching for exciting material to use, and creative ways to teach, I come home totally deflated and discouraged. The joy I once felt when in the classroom has been replaced by a dread for each new day in school, due to the chutzpah I deal with and the time I waste disciplining.

When I need to speak privately to a girl of caliber, from a solid home, about her chutzpah, and she answers with, “But, why can’t I?” it hurts!

What are we doing to our children? Does chutzpah yasgeh in the times leading up to the coming of Mashiach give us the right to ignore when our children speak or act with chutzpah? Are we so afraid to be firm about not tolerating it that we look to put the blame for their behavior on the schools that aren’t meeting the needs of the children, as was quoted in “Quick Q” in the same issue? Our children are growing up coddled; everything is done to make them happy and comfortable, and they’re almost never being taken to task for chutzpah, even when it translates to becoming adults who were never properly taught the right way to treat others.

Though I’m not yet ready to retire, I’ve lost the passion I had for chinuch, and will likely not put myself through another year of disappointment in a school.

A Mechaneches in Pain

Plain Jane vs. Dressed to the Nines [Conversation Continues / Issue 967]

I’m responding to the letter pointing out that while in our Bais Yaakov-educated communities we follow the letter of the law carefully when it comes to tzniyus, but are still dressed to kill, in other places, they aren’t so meticulous about necklines and elbow covering, but look far less attractive. This raises such an intriguing question: What is the purpose of tzniyus? Is it to look dignified and respectable? To make sure we’re so nondescript, no one notices us? To be so “plain Jane,” there’s little about us that says “female”?

I don’t know the answer to the question, and I’m sure that like all things in this world, there are many answers and approaches, some that complement one another, and some that contradict. But I know for myself that there are two things that guide me when I go clothing and accessory shopping, interestingly enough both from non-Jewish sources. One is the “mashal” Muhammad Ali told his daughter: that pearls are found deep in the ocean, inside oyster shells, because precious things are hidden, not flaunted. The other is my driving instructor’s reaction when he saw an elderly woman on a motorized scooter at the traffic light. She was attired in black silk, her hair was twisted into a chignon, and there was gold jewelry on her earlobes, throat, and wrists. He unrolled the car window and yelled out to her, “Good for you!”

Dina Cohen

Kashrus Alert [Family Table / Issue 954]

I’m a bit behind with my reading, and I just noticed that the recipe section called for turbot fish. In Europe, turbot is a nonkosher species of fish, while in the US it’s kosher. Since fish can, and is often, bought in non-Jewish fish shops, this can be misleading to the public, especially to those of your readers not yet familiar with the intricacies of keeping kosher.

J. Strassman

Antwerp

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 970)