web analytics
July 8, 2015 / 21 Tammuz, 5775
At a Glance
Sections
Sponsored Post


Chronicles Of Crises In Our Communities

By:
Chronicles-logo

Dear Rachel,

It’s been over 40 years and I am still haunted by the ugly memories. As I relive some of the worst moments of my life, I hurt all over again. The crippling wave of emotions that washes over me does a number on me… again and again I am torn between feelings of guilt and rage. Why did I allow it? What was I thinking? How could he have?!

Somehow with the help of G-d I acquired the coping skills to enable me, baruch Hashem, to raise a family and become a doting grandmother. But the intense pain seared into my psyche still surfaces, and when it does it burns with unbearable intensity.

When I see abusers and molesters, disguised as leaders and counselors, being coddled – while their victims are scorned and their claims discredited, it’s as if I am that young girl again, used and abused at the whim of a recognized and supposedly respectable mechanech.

Therapists I’ve seen over the years have assured me that I have nothing to feel guilty about. But I argue that I wasn’t a child anymore – at eighteen I should have known better and could have spurned the come-ons. Okay, maybe a savvy, street-smart, self-assured 18-year old would have done just that. But with my lack of sophistication and self-confidence, I was easily conned and blinded by his wit and charm. And he had plenty of both, with intelligence thrown in for good measure.

He also had a lovely family. And his wife must have been the envy of every teenager who had a crush on her husband and who would line up at the door of his office every chance they got, hoping to catch a private audience with their rebbe/teacher/principal.

He wasn’t handsome in a striking way, but he oozed charisma. And in his low-key, unassuming and easygoing manner he actually had me convinced that he cared about me, that his sole concern was my wellbeing and happiness, and that there was nothing inherently wrong with our relationship.

It began when my high school years were behind me. I was no longer under his tutelage when I chanced on getting a ride with him from my small hometown to the big city where I worked. We weren’t alone on our lengthy drive, at least not at first. On the second or third round, we were. Then came the convenient “to rest up a bit” overnight stops. He was sweet, gentle, persuasive and he knew just what to say.

It lasted a few months, during which time I would often commute by bus to meet up with him and spend a leisurely Sunday together. Weirdly, he once invited me to spend a Shabbos in his home where I was warmly welcomed by his family, where he behaved of course and acted as the perfect family man practicing hachnassas orchim.

So what made me so gullible? Trust me, Rachel, no one would have believed it of me. I was the studious, no-nonsense, goody-goody type, a conservative dresser, and not particularly outgoing. In fact, my idea of a good time was to curl up with a book rather than hang out with friends. Besides, as a middle child I had always felt upstaged by my older sister whom I considered to be way smarter and better looking than I, while my youngest sib was adorable and deserved all the attention she got.

Our holocaust-survivor parents were devoted to a fault but were mainly focused on making ends meet, serving wholesome meals on time and dutifully attending PTA meetings. Obviously deeply pained about having lost large segments of their families to the gas chambers, they didn’t seem to have the strength or inclination to demonstrate their love for us in a tangible way. Hugs and kisses were reserved for those rare occasions when they would be reunited with kin following years of separation.

So maybe I needed to be needed, to be loved, to be complimented… and to be hugged. And this man, at least 25 years my senior, knew exactly who would be unable to resist his appeal and withstand the nisayon — the net he so cleverly laid out to ensnare his vulnerable prey.

About the Author: We encourage women and men of all ages to send in their personal stories via email to rachel@jewishpress.com or by mail to Rachel/Chronicles, c/o The Jewish Press, 4915 16th Ave., Brooklyn, N.Y. 11204. If you wish to make a contribution and help agunot, your tax-deductible donation should be sent to The Jewish Press Foundation. Please make sure to specify that it is to help agunot, as the foundation supports many worthwhile causes.


If you don't see your comment after publishing it, refresh the page.

Our comments section is intended for meaningful responses and debates in a civilized manner. We ask that you respect the fact that we are a religious Jewish website and avoid inappropriate language at all cost.

If you promote any foreign religions, gods or messiahs, lies about Israel, anti-Semitism, or advocate violence (except against terrorists), your permission to comment may be revoked.

No Responses to “Chronicles Of Crises In Our Communities”

Comments are closed.

Current Top Story
Yeshiva boys learn Torah together at Beit Midrash Derech Chaim.  Due to their participation in a pre-army intelligence program, the IDF requires their identities to remain secret.
Exclusive: First IDF Cyber-Defense Program Opens at Yeshiva
Latest Sections Stories
Grieff-070315

In the face of evil, we can do acts of kindness. We can do good deeds.

Teens-Twenties-logo

I realized that I am an integral part of that man who wished to win – I am also a part of a nation; I felt like I was standing there and shouting, “I won.”

Teens-Twenties-logo

As I powerfully belted out the song, Ani Maamin B’emunah Sheleima – which means “I believe in God with full faith” – a thought suddenly crossed my mind.

Ganz-View-From-Window-logo

I do not suggest abandoning civilization for a pristine desert island or a hilltop in Judea or Samaria.

After diamonds were discovered in South Africa in the mid-1800s, Antwerp regained its prominence as the diamond capital of the world.

Search the Internet for innovative barbeque items and you might just be surprised at what you come across.

Orlando was once a place where people came only to visit and vacation. Now it is home to a burgeoning Torah community, a place Jewish families can be proud to call home.

You’re not seeking perfection. You’re seeking a life that an average person can manage and feel good about. Don’t feel pressure to change everything at once.

The smuggler’s life has been changed forever. He is faced with a major criminal charge. He will probably be sent to prison.

In Culture Shock, readers will also come to identify with a culture from the other end of Orthodox Jewry’s spectrum.

Children with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) or Executive Function Disorder (EFD) have trouble keeping themselves organized and on-task.

Our Sages have told us exactly how we should act – and how our children should act – in Pirkei Avos, Ethics of the Fathers.

A second supposed difficulty actually becomes a reason to corroborate that Amestris is Esther.

I work with the Bible in one hand and the tools of excavation in the other.

Printed from: http://www.jewishpress.com/sections/family/chronicles-of-crises/chronicles-of-crises-in-our-communities-163/2012/08/17/

Scan this QR code to visit this page online: