“I have the highest praise for the series you published called Diverging. ‘Meira’ is honest, articulate, clear, and amazingly beautiful”

Women’s Space  [Lifetakes / Issue 975]

I read Bashie Lisker’s essay, “Takeover,” with dismay. She says at the end of her essay, “We’re staging a hostile takeover” to reclaim the women’s section. But in fact, the real takeover was carried out by the men when they entered the ezras nashim and started using it as an additional space where men could daven.

I’ve had that experience, too, though not in my own shul. Years ago, we’d driven quite far to attend a bris. We arrived in time for Shacharis, and I went inside, figuring I’d catch davening in the women’s section. When I got there — yes, you guessed it — it was full of men learning. None of them moved when I walked in, and I wasn’t the only woman there.

When men use the women’s section — either to learn or to daven in a quieter space, as was Bashie’s experience — they seem to be saying that whatever they’re doing there is more important than the actual purpose of that room: the tefillos of women.

It’s understandable — women don’t have to daven with a minyan, and women don’t have a chiyuv in limud haTorah.

But it’s worth remembering the story of Rav Yissachar Dov, the third Belzer Rebbe. During World War I, he fled Poland for Ratzfert, Hungary, where he lived temporarily. Before the Yamim Noraim, the chassidim erected a temporary shul to accommodate the people who were expected to join for Yom Tov. The Belzer Rebbe went to check the structure and seemed disappointed. He asked if there was a women’s section. The chassidim told him no, it was too difficult to include. The Rebbe was unhappy, and he said, “How can I daven in a shul without an ezras nashim? The crying of the nashim tzidkanoyios ensure our tefillos will be accepted in Shamayim.” A women’s section was added — one large enough to accommodate all the women.

It’s understandable that the ezras nashim gets used by men during the day when there are no women present in shul. But during zeman tefillah, the women’s section must be available for the people it was set aside for — the women.

Esther Shaindy Leshkowitz

So Impressive [Family Living / Issue 975]

I was reading the section on how to host right, and it warmed my heart. I have a friend who’s not frum, and she couldn’t get over the fact that people build and prepare beautiful guest rooms free of charge for people they don’t even know! Mi k’amcha Yisrael!

Name Withheld

My Two Cents [Family Living / Issue 975]

I read Five-Star: How to Host Right with interest and enjoyed and appreciated each entry immensely. I thought of adding my two cents, but it’s such a catch-22: People are being so generous by allowing you to stay at their house, how dare you complain about things that aren’t perfect? So please see this as awarenesses of doing chesed that’s wrapped in chesed.

Hostesses, if something is broken in the guest room, please advise the guests. I know. It’s your cleaning lady who changes the linens; you don’t even go down there. How about asking her to let you know if something is broken? I once stayed in a pitch-black bedroom because the Shabbos light was broken. Had I known, I would’ve brought my own. But aside from the inconvenience, we felt bad that the hostess would think that we had broken it. But how do we tell her that we hadn’t?

Another great idea: Write down the combination number so they don’t have to ask you again if they forget.

And a guest who stayed in my basement made me aware of an important extra. The next time she came, she bought me a Mizrach sign to display. I so appreciated it.

Thank you to every machnis oreiach out there. I know you’re going out of your way for your fellow Yid whom you might not even know.

E.M.

Sad It’s Over [Diverging /Issue 975]

I have the highest praise for the series you published called Diverging. “Meira” is honest, articulate, clear, and amazingly beautiful. I found the story highly impactful. To finally have someone who is actually living with autism share her experiences is better than any expert’s opinions. I’m sad that last week was the last of the series.

I felt there was so much more Meira had to share and that people need to read to understand that, as she wrote, people with autism were also created by HaKadosh Baruch Hu and have an important tafkid only they can fulfill. They shouldn’t be pitied and aren’t less than in any way. Again, kudos to her for reaching out to you with the idea and kudos to all of you for publishing the series.

M.K.

We Need More [Diverging / Issue 975]

I want to express my profound gratitude for the diary serial Diverging. Meira Sherman, you have my utmost thanks for being brave enough to share your story with others. As a fellow neurodivergent Jewish woman, the best way I can describe your story is a feeling that many chapters are pure “snapshots” of my brain. Reading your words, your story; it made me feel seen in new ways. I genuinely don’t know how to say thank you enough.

When I read the first chapter, everything about it — from the title “Diverging” (neurodivergent, hello?), to the thinly veiled sensory struggles, to the rigid thoughts and strict behaviors — made me get up when I was done and state, very bluntly to my family, “Yep. She has autism.”

For me, it was so obvious. I saw so much of my struggles in your life that I was able to recognize it much earlier. But at the same time, that’s part of the struggle in and of itself, isn’t it?

Nobody lives in our mind. Nobody is privy to the most private thoughts we have. And when individuals with autism mask well enough, for so long the struggles can go unseen. They can be brushed off as “dramatics” or disregarded because their gravity isn’t understood. That dismissal may even push us to hide even more, for worry over further rejection. I fear that there is still a massive lack of understanding of what autism actually is, especially how it presents in women. In fact, a friend’s family member, upon reading your story, Meira, actually assumed that the struggles were OCD related. Autism didn’t even cross her mind until someone recommended it.

There’s so much work to be done in raising awareness and understanding for people with autism, especially people who look different from stereotyped expectations. So thank you, Meira, for sharing your story. It’s a very brave, very wonderful, and very validating start. But, in the grand scheme of things, it’s still not enough. We need more. We all need to advocate for ourselves. Each and every woman with autism has a unique story to share, and it’s far past time for them to get out there.

Our stories are different, but they are so very similar.

So thank you again, Meira. For making me, and I’m sure dozens of other women who read Family First, feel very, very seen by members of our Jewish community for the first time. Thank you for allowing us to be a part of a small segment of your journey.

A Validated Reader

A Game Changer [Real Life / Issue 974]

I’m writing in response to the article about the woman who repaired her complex relationship with her mother.

I clipped the article and filed it in the basket by my bed that contains my Tehillim, Krias Shema, and daily shemiras halashon learning.

It was a game changer. I have a very complex relationship with my mother, and often feel like the “adult” in the relationship, doing the caretaking, while getting frustrated that the dynamic of a parent being there for me is absent. My mother has codependent tendencies, and unfortunately has developed a semblelence of dependency on me, which generally causes me to shut down emotionally, furthering the complicated dynamic.

This article changed everything for me. I set an alarm on my phone to call my mother at a specific time each day. I created a list of what I can offer and what I can’t. The fact that I’m allowing myself to invest in a way that is doable for me is creating a new space in our relationship. Instead of shutting down each time a semblance of my mother’s dependence on me creeps into our conversation, I tell myself that if the woman writing the article could do it, so can I.

Our relationship is improving daily, and I want you to know, the credit goes to you for so many of the subtle points you alluded to in your article: The way you said that you’re on the giving end, the gentle nudge that our parents aren’t here forever, and that we don’t want to be racked with guilt.

The way you described falling apart after each visit — it was real, it was raw, it was relatable, and it was transformative.

Thank you for sharing your story.

Y.S.

Unbalanced and Disappointing [All Together, All the Time / Issue 973]

As a longtime and devoted reader of Family First, I have come to expect articles reflecting a Torah-centered perspective on marriage, valuing mutual respect, appreciation, companionship, and emotional connection. I was therefore surprised and disappointed by the tone of the recent article about wives feeling resentful of their newly retired husbands.

After a husband has worked for 40+ years to provide a comfortable home for his family, should his wife view him as an intruder in that very home? And if a husband, eager to spend more time with his wife, goes so far as to prepare topics for discussion over lunch, should she not be flattered by the effort rather than resenting the burden on her time?

At the very least, I would have appreciated a more balanced perspective. The article could have included perspectives from women who cherish this stage of life and find joy in their retirement years together, and offered guidance on how couples can navigate this new chapter in a meaningful and fulfilling way, rather than merely suggesting how to tolerate a husband’s presence. Perhaps this is something worth exploring.

R.L.

Ramat Beit Shemesh

Be a Mensch [Quick Q / Issue 972]

I’m responding to the poll that asked people if they send back return cards when they get a simchah invitation. It’s fun and exciting to get these, especially from those who add color (confetti) and warm, personal messages.

There’s another important purpose for return cards — allowing the baalei simchah to know how many seats to prepare.

I’ve been zocheh to make close to ten chasunahs in the last ten years. My response-card return rate has been about 50 percent.

The hall I used most has a takanah package that includes 300 people. I pay for anyone over that amount. At one recent chasunah, my siblings came to tell me that their teenage and/or married children didn’t have seats. That means that people came and sat down, even though they never notified me that they were coming. (I actually had a couple who showed up with four uninvited children, who all proceeded to take seats at a table and enjoy the meal!)

I’ve received beautiful cards replete with brachos from very busy rabbanim, roshei yeshivah, and menahalim who always took time to send back the response card, even when they couldn’t come.

If you’re really so busy, busier than a major posek in the Tristate area, and you can’t find a minute to check off a “Yes, I’m coming” or “No, I regretfully can’t make it” box or line (we did make it as easy as possible), and drop it in the mailbox, at least don’t take the seat of the person with a modicum of derech eretz and menschlichkeit who did let us know he was coming.

A.K.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 977)