As I applied makeup in Estonia, it came to me: Judaism is my truth

As told to Rivka Streicher by Leah Peleg

"What do you want to do?”

I was 16, in a religious studies class in a non-Jewish school in the English village of Marchwood, when the question burst out of me. There were only a few of us in the class — in the fifth form we could choose between history, geography, and religious studies. I chose the latter; my mom was a deeply spiritual person, even though we weren’t Jewish, and didn’t align ourselves with any particular religion.

That day we were talking about our vision for our futures, and the girl sitting next to me said, “I want to be a mom…”

I looked at her and blinked. What?

She said, “Yeah, well what do you want to do?”

That was one time I realized I didn’t want to — could not — follow the mainstream. Just get into one relationship and then another and another and somewhere along the way have a family?

I grew up in a society with little commitment. All the relationships I knew had dissolved: my parents were divorced, my grandma was on her third marriage. There were no healthy, stable relationships in my upbringing. Why would I want that? To me, getting married meant breaking up some time on. Did I want to bring children into a world like that?

“I don’t know,” I said to my friend in that small classroom. “For now, I want to learn about the world…”

That year, I left home right after finishing school. This isn’t a story of faulting my family or my upbringing. On the contrary, I have the most supportive, loving family and they would’ve given everything for me to stay. Running away was me seeking independence, was trying to find myself, because ultimately my soul belonged somewhere else.

Among the Zombies

I moved to Ireland. I was drawn to holistic therapy and alternative medicine and started studying. At the same time, I was making good money working in event design. I had a circle of friends, we were holidaying, having fun. It looked like I had it all.

But inside I was in pain. I’d walk to work in the morning and see all these people hurrying along, heads bent low. These aren’t real people. They’re zombies, dolls, dead. This cannot be life, if this is life, I don’t want it.

I had little self-esteem, I was seeking approval outside of myself. I was so often uptight, trying to control my life and the people in it. I didn’t know who I was as a woman in this post-modern world. Through the suppression of emotion and the pain inside, I developed physical pains; IBS, cramps, and the worst, endometriosis. When I went to the doctor, described my symptoms and spoke a little about my life, he said, “I think you need to be signed off work for depression. Go home, take some time off, see if you feel better.”

That was a slap in the face. Me? Was I one of those zombies too?