Since I grew up with a fairly average Jewish life in Minnesota, I never realized that I might be different.
Like any proud Jewish family, our home was centered on Judaism and Zionism. It was a kosher home. We went to synagogue every Shabbat. I was active in our JCC and spent summers at Jewish camps.
This time last year, I was 22 and finishing up my post-college entry-level job at CBS News. I had my near future planned out and was well on my way to becoming a TV news producer. I was going to get married around 27 (the man didn’t exist) and live out the fast-paced, no-sleep city life, and probably move out to the suburbs once the dream husband and I had kids.
My parents never put any restrictions on the guys I could date. When I called my mother a few weeks into my freshman year at Temple University to tell her that I had a boyfriend, she was neither surprised nor concerned to hear he was not Jewish.
As a child, I was taught a very literal interpretation of how our universe came to be. Every single thing that would ever exist was created in six days. First, there was light, then land and sea, plants, planets, and animals.
There is a famous saying: “More than the Jews have kept the Sabbath, the Sabbath has kept the Jews.”
In my head, I’m already calling the last few days “The Week of #metoo.” My social media feeds – and probably yours too – have been filled with women standing up to say that they, like the victims of Harvey Weinstein, have suffered harassment, assault, or rape.
Before I opened my business, I was extremely scared.
I never thought of myself as a business owner, so how in the heck was I supposed to create and run one? It wasn’t in my long-term plan to