Getting in was supposed to be the hard part.
Turns out… going might be harder.
The minute the email came, people stopped asking how I was doing.
They assumed the smile in the group chat meant the anxiety left with it.
But honestly, I think it just shapeshifted.
Now it’s not will I get in?
It’s who will I be when I get there?*
I’m not the girl who dreams about seminary from 9th grade.
I’m not super deep. I don’t quote mashgichim in casual conversation.
I don’t cry when I daven — I just try to show up and mean it, at least once a day.
But I do want to grow. I just don’t always know how.
I realized something this week — I keep talking around my story instead of just telling it.
So maybe I should back up and tell you who I actually am. Or at least who I think I am right now.
I’m the second of five.
My older sister is in shidduchim, which brings its own weight into the house.
My brother is starting high school next year, and let’s just say he’s very ready to stop being “the little brother.”
And then I’ve got two younger ones, a boy and a girl, still in elementary school, still innocent enough to think candy solves everything.
My family? We’re what people would probably call balebatish.
Not modern, not yeshivish, just… in the middle.
We keep halacha. We try to do what’s right.
We’re not flashy. We’re not trying to be something we’re not.
And still… part of me wonders if I’ll be enough in a room full of girls who seem to have it all figured out.
Not because I think I’m “less religious,” chas v’shalom.
But because I still have questions. I still have moments where I don’t feel as inspired as I think I’m supposed to.
And maybe I’m not the only one.
This whole writing thing actually started by accident.
Nachi from Meaningful Minute put out a call for new content ideas, and I emailed him on a whim. I told him I love to write. Sometimes I don’t know what I think until I see it typed out.
He replied something like,
“We don’t really have a consistent column right now. But maybe you want to be the first? Maybe you could document your year?”
I said yes.
And now I can’t stop.
It’s weird..writing this feels like the one place I don’t have to pretend.
So here I am.
Still un-packed.
Still unsure.
Still going.
More soon.
– Talmidah X
I don’t have all the answers.
Just a pen, a passport, and something to say.