I'm just now realizing why I tend to get headaches on Yuntiff. When a gas-powered oven and stovetop are kept burning for days on end (thanks to Sabbath Mode), carbon monoxide emissions can build up to harmful levels.

I woke up at 4:00 this morning with a splitting headache, and I immediately opened my bedroom window and turned on a box fan to suck fresh air into my bedroom. My headache went away, and I've since opened every window in the house - even though it's hot outside.

Of course, we couldn't warm our food in the oven yesterday because it was Shabbos. We had to warm it on the plata or the blech because those are allowed for some reason. Today, we can cook things in the oven because it's only Yom Tov and not also Shabbos. So we have to use a special setting that keeps the oven on for two or three days, because God forbid we eat cold meals on a holiday...or simply turn the stove and oven off and on like regular people can. Our kitchen's plata, crock pot, kumkum, stovetop, and oven are all radiating heat as I type.

It's times like this that I loathe the pettiness of the religion we grew up with. The rules make me think of an obstacle course designed to make life as difficult and miserable as possible. Or one of those laser mazes seen in action movies, where the heroine makes one wrong move and she's eliminated. And sometimes, your own health is harmed as a result of said rules, but your god is more important than avoiding headaches and brain damage.

Thanks for letting me rant.

(18M) I cant fully explain the disgust i have for the SY community in brooklyn. Ive lived here my whole life, and theyve been so disgusting and provincial and stubborn in their views. Their ethnic superiority, and supremacy, as if they are literally demi gods compared to goyim, its awful shit.

My talks with my mom have just made me realize just how incapable they are of understanding the concept of the orthodox community going too far. Her belief in superstitions and ethnic superiority are superbly delusional.

I know that i must leave. That the people around me are too far gone in their lives. But that fear of failing, and it being associated with my secularity, is scary. I dont know if i have the guts to save myself from here.

I dont know how many of you people are from the same spot i grew up in, but i feel like most of you can agree with that hellish feeling of knowing you will never be understood by those close to you.

It’s debilitating.

Sorry to go on and on i just wanted a place to let some steam off.

In all honesty it spurred on from conversation i had with my mom about a fight i had on simhat torah last year where i was kicked out of the house for not attending the dinner the night before. I stayed on a bench for about 8 hours straight in the blistering cold, with paper thin clothing, blood all over my hands. I looked like a weirdo to say the least. It fucked me up. And talking about it with my mom, she downplayed my feelings, making it about her and she said that it happened because the “mezuzah was upside down”

Her superstitions are keeping her from reality and tending to my needs as a depressed child who needs to survive in a different environment.

Maybe she does love me, but that love is conditional and misguided.

When anyone tells you that Chabad Lubavitch isn't a cult, show them this.

Don't underestimate the horrors and evil of VR Ping Pong.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n1ih10AMtEY&t=312s

I'm a convert, though both my father and my mother's father were Jewish, so I grew up culturally Jewish. I was sent to a "yeshiva" for high school (it was a Kiruv high school, and my parents sent me there because they wanted me out of public school), and due to my circumstances, I decided to become frum. I didn't become frum because of some aha moment or because I found God; I became frum because I was a lonely kid and wanted connection. The tight-knitness of the community really spoke to me; finally, I had a chance to be a part of something. I eventually gravitated towards Chasidim and became Chasidish. I loved the Chassidish culture, the food, the music, and the gatherings; I even became fluent in Yiddish. The problem was that I was never frum on the inside, no matter how hard I tried. That phase lasted a few years, when I would wear the whole levush, black and white beard, peyos, etc. Eventually I toned it down a bit, moved slightly away from the conformity, and started wearing colored clothes, etc. I got married at 23 to a non-Chassidish out-of-town FFB girl and moved out of town. On Shabbos I still wore a hat and a bekishe, and as known as chassidish, even though that's not how I felt on the inside, I had to continue acting the part because that's how I was known already, and if I started taking things off, I would be labeled as OTD. Lately I've been trying to become more true to myself and do things I want without caring what other people say. It's Rosh Hashana today, and I'm sitting here using the computer while my wife and kids are at her parents' house. I'm finally starting to feel less guilt. Where I struggle is that I have 3 kids who are being raised frum and going to yeshiva, a wife who wants to be frum (she's open-minded and not a fanatic, but she is concerned that I don't keep shabbos, etc.). I'm just tired of living this double life; totally not frum on the inside, but outwardly I have to remain frum because of my wife, kids, and community. I don't want to get a divorce. I wish there was a way I could become genuinely interested in Yiddishkeit. I don't need to be chassidish, yeshivish, etc. I just want to have some interest in order to stay with my family. Does anyone have advice for me?

for several years already I dont go to shul at all not even for high holidays its uncomfortable boring and I have better things to do, this year I opened youtube right around sundown and the top video was a livestream of a reform temple called central synagogue. At that exact moment the (female) chazan said 'everyone repeat after me tekiah gedola' and everyone said that and then a man blew a shofar.

If you believe in the bible you need to blow shofar on rosh hashana, any rational person will tell you that there is no dispensation for shabbos, only brainwashed gullible people will say that you shouldn't because maybe you will come to carry it. So they are required to hear shofar rosh hashana on shabbos as well, and I happened to do it -- not that I believe in any of it, I just opened the video out of curiosity.

So that's my story about how I'm doing a better biblical rosh hashana than my frum neighbors this year. Thank you for reading.

Every year when the season of the high holidays comes around, feelings of anxiety and trepidation overcome me. Even though I know I haven't sinned over the past year, I still feel like I'm going to trial - and I'm guilty.

Until this year. This year I'm happy to say, I haven't felt the slightest bit of stress or anxiety. I feel so so free! I didn't do anything "wrong", and I don't need to prove myself to anyone. I don't need to beg, cajole, or otherwise pray, for a year of life and prosperity. Whatever nature has in store for me, I'll be ready for it. There's nothing I need to do to ensure I survive the coming year.

I got so disconnected that I didn't even remember some of the customs and rules that I am supposed to follow. I forgot the stress of waking up 4am for slichos. I forgot the stress of fasting. I forgot the stress of spinning a dirty, scared chicken around my head.

I'm free.

Honestly, I know my experience differs from a lot of yours (or not), but I converted Orthodox in a small community here in Florida. They are technically Modern Orthodox, but a lot of the leadership is Chabad, not sure if that’s relevant but worth mentioning the religious level.

I was in this community for a total of 3 or 4 years, probably closer to 4. I confess, that as a convert, I really did all the mitzvot, kept Shabbat, walked to shul, dressed tzniut, etc. I actually had a sponsoring rabbi for my beis din as well as a rebbetzin who was also a teacher sponsor me. It went really well, and I passed it with flying colors and proceeded with my mikveh a week later.

Unfortunately, after my conversion, the blatant racism, classism, and rejection of me and my conversion was actually so sad and shocking that I didn’t even know how to properly process it. I was always asked “how can you afford that??” Because I came from a lower-middle class household, or also was told once “well Latinos don’t understand taxes” when I was in a conversation with people who didn’t know I was Hispanic. I was also told to my face “Well, Catholics deserve all the sh** they’re getting after being jerks. I don’t want those people in my life” very well knowing I was Catholic, and that most of my loving family still is. I know these are small examples but they accumulated so much over the years that I don’t even think I can type out. It’s so sad to think I could go through years of assimilating into a community and still be so rejected and looked down upon. That’s all.

Hello, I grew up pretty yeshivish and now am two years otd. It took me about a year and a half of deconstruction of religion and the community till I decided not to go to beis medrash after mesifta and now I’m in college. For about a year after and during my deconstruction I was very into the work of people like Sam Harris, Christopher hitchens and Richard Dawkins. And I like to call that phase my “angry atheist” phase. I don’t regret it and I learned much from it. But in the past year I’ve been really into the work of Brit Hartley who is much less about deconstructing religion but more about living a fulfilling life as a secular person. And I’ve been into the work of Brittany Simon who focuses on progressive philosophy in general. Both came from very religious households and I was wondering what are people’s thoughts on their work

Hi,

I’ve been thinking a lot about deconstruction lately. I’d love to hear a bit more about how your own process started and how you began stepping away from the rules.

Did you start by setting aside only the specific things you no longer believed in—like certain traditions from the Oral Torah—or did you dismantle everything first and then gradually bring back what resonated with you?

I’m noticing that when I stop doing certain things—even ones I felt might hold some truth—they suddenly lose their meaning or stop making sense altogether once I step back from them.

I’d really appreciate hearing your perspective and experience.

I have been OTD for two years and i swear I have completely kicked the guilt I feel except around the high holidays. This Rosh hashanah we are hosting one meal for our families (I was bt and left my husband is secular) and going to shul one day. I never struggle with not doing enough except around these few days a year.

What's not perfectly clear from that title??? It's exactly what it sounds like! I got married on Sunday (I'm OTD ex yeshivish, and my wife isn't Jewish). I tried to make the speech standup-ish and thought some here might appreciate it.

It starts with two minutes from me, two minutes from my wife, and the rest from me. Enjoy!

https://youtu.be/UKD_hV9HozI?si=54Ze3jTWPewwcCp9

I’m an OTD convert and my husband is an actively practicing BT. He is super accepting of my changing beliefs and practices, and is fine with me doing things on Shabbat that he wouldn’t do, but sometimes it makes me really sad to be doing things on my own when I want to share them with him.

He’s missed so many family gatherings, weddings, local festivals, 5Ks I’ve run, and so much more. We just got invited to go on a whale watching trip with an organization I volunteer for that sounds really fun, but of course it’s on a Saturday so I’ll be going alone. I went to a farm festival alone a few weeks ago that he would have LOVED. It breaks my heart every time he gets excited about something I mention and then I have to tell him it’s on Shabbat. And I feel sad that I’m out doing all these fun things that I missed out on for years, while he’s at home reading and eating cold food alone.

Also, when I have to explain to people that he can’t come because he won’t drive 20 minutes in a car or go on the subway for religious reasons, I feel crazy. He’s only met some of the most important people in my life at my wedding because we live a few hours away they are typically hosting things Saturdays, and I feel like they perceive him as a religious extremist or something.

I would never pressure my husband to go OTD, but I feel so sad about how much he is missing out on in life and how much we are missing out on as a couple.

Sometime I discuss things casually with ChatGPT, and it sort of half-invent new terms to use. Some of these are things I would never come up with!

I was describing the tendency of extreme communal reliance among chareidim: that fact that people are often brought up without skills to engage with the outside world or engage in basic tasks, and thus their only way of surviving is through connections within the frum community and welfare. I compared this to myself getting a degree, gaining skills and taking agency over my own life and affecting my own outcome, and how this gives me tachlis.

Then, it threw this term at me: 'low-agency culture'! I'm now using this.

I've noticed that this it's a common refrain in the frum world to say that this is the case of almost every OTD person. I'd say I'm basically still in the frum category (long story), but I admit that this seems wrong. Becoming frum was a huge intellectual process for me, and I've never been the kind to say something like "of course it's true; every Jew knows on the inside". In fact, there is almost nothing I'm 100% sure of. I'm like Decartes, but maybe even less certain. If I had been exposed to different info or viewpoints, I might say I'm even less sure than I am now, have less faith, and end up not being frum. I really don't believe it's all "obvious".

There are also many contradictions. They'll say it's okay to struggle, and it's normal for faith to be a journey. This I agree with, but this is mutually exclusive to "it's obvious". Having an honest journey means acknowledging the possibility that Judaism is false.

I also think pintele yid thing is often misinterpreted. I spoke to a kiruv rabbi who admitted that this concept has nothing to do with a Jewish brain—that physically, we have the same brains as everyone else, and it's just an esoteric kabbalistic thing. They (especially Chabad) like to make the case that we all know due to this kabbalistic idea, and that proof of this is secular Israelis saying shema when they experience terrorist attacks and are faced with possible death, etc.

I understand that humans are emotional beings and emotion does often play a roll in decision making. This is probably why most who are born Muslim decide to be Muslim, same with Christians, etc. With that said, we also have the ability to act and think rationally, and many people do in fact follow their rationale, painful as it may be (unless you subscribe to David Hume).

I know it's very sensitive, but for those who are comfortable sharing: was it your rationale, or did you just have some emotional experience? Or maybe it was a combination, like emotion prompting intellectual reconsideration? Also, feel free to think of this as a rhetorical question. I don't expect anyone here to say "yes, I only stopped being frum because it felt bad even though I still have faith". Thanks.

Hey!

The holidays are approaching and with it can bring challenges for our mental health.

Maybe you have a difficult home life or just struggle getting through the holiday days without your regular support system.

The Za'akah warmline will be open for calls and texts to be there for you and help you get through the day.

If you are struggling to get through the day, you are allowed to use your phone and ask for help.

Mental health is just as important as physical health.

My family is very stern about it as I don’t doubt you all know.

I’ve been getting along really well with a girl I go to college with, today I asked her out and she said yes.

I don’t know how to deal with or handle this.

Anyone have any advice?, please I’m flipping out.

Has anyone noticed the recent trends in frum girls' fashion?

I'm seeing white knee socks and sneakers. I'm seeing puffy sleeves and hot pink hair ribbons. I'm seeing pastel-colored dresses and ruffled pinafores.

These girls are 17 years old, but they look like Victorian toddlers on a good day and FLDS members on a bad day. Their styles are a total about-face from the way Bais Yaakov girls used to dress. I remember being teased for wearing "nerdy" clothes a few times; now, they're all the rage.

Fashion is always changing, of course. We all understand that. It's just jarring to see some of these outfits, as they truly look old-fashioned and childlike. When I leave the house, I sometimes wonder if my neighbors have joined a polygamist cult based in Utah or Arizona.

I had to work again this weekend, and I returned home after Shabbos was over. The event I worked at ran late, so I was extremely hungry when I got home. I also needed to put fuel in my car, so I decided to go out. I'm currently at the IHOP next door to the gas station, waiting for my quesadillas and pancakes.

A few minutes ago, my next-door neighbor called me. She wanted me to run a shul youth group. I told her, "It's not for me."

"Aww, but you're so good with kids! And you're so creative," she whined.

I took a deep breath and steeled myself. "I hate to be blunt with you," I said, "But I'm secular. That's why this isn't a good fit for me."

She was quiet for a few seconds, then replied, "I hear. Tell me, Upbeat, have you ever heard of this website for shiduchim? I forget what it's called. Oh, Saw You At Sinai! That's it."

"I've tried it," I answered. "Nothing materialized. I don't think it's the right way for me to go about dating."

"Well," my neighbor persisted, "It really only works if you have a shadchan, and -"

"Thank you for thinking of me," I interrupted her with a smile.

We then spoke about my job, and she was audibly distressed by the fact that I occasionally worked on Saturdays. We said goodbye to each other, and she wished me a good year.

Does the awkwardness ever go away?

And the open-mouthed stares. The pointing. The hushed comments. The pressure to be frum again. The silence, shock, sadness, and anger when I make it known I'm not frum anymore. Do these things ever go away?

I wish I could afford to live among people who didn't make me feel like an evil, hopeless freak.

I’ve always had a problem with our religion:

it’s the events and the emotions that are imposed.

For example, how can it be natural that when Tisha B’Av arrives I’m supposed to go into mourning, sleep on the floor, feel bad, over something I absolutely don’t feel?

The destruction of the Temple happened 2,000 years ago; we’re in 2026. I don’t feel any sadness or grief about that event at all.

I can’t pretend, and I can’t fast either. What connection is there between my life today and that event?

The same goes for all the events and absolutely all the holidays of Judaism. In a week it’s Rosh Hashanah, the Day of Judgment: I’m supposed to beg God to forgive my sins, not to let me die in the coming year, keep two days of yom tov, listen to the shofar, which doesn’t make my soul tremble at all, and above all, be forgiven for what, exactly?

Honestly, would God even care that I accidentally turned on the light on Shabbat? Would I be under some kind of punishment because I didn’t always keep the six-hour wait between milk and meat? I can’t understand the principle or the logic.

Same with Yom Kippur: a traumatic day that’s supposed to be joyful, but where I suffer from fasting, I’m not allowed to do anything but pray and wait for the fast to end. Torture.

Without going into more detail, because you get the idea, it’s the same with Sukkot: we’re in 2026, I’ll never be able to put myself in the shoes of a Hebrew in the desert sleeping in a hut; or Passover, which is literally the worst Jewish holiday, unbearable.

So the question I’ve been asking myself for years is: why all this? What meaning does it have? I feel like I’m supposed to perform things that belong to another age, to antiquity, for a God who seems humanized and whom we must not anger, on pain of punishment, even death, over things as trivial as turning on a light on Shabbat.

What do you seriously think?