When Emunah Feels Far Away

It’s been so hard for me to blog these last couple of weeks because, Baruch Hashem, life has been tremendous. With the last two weeks of school, kids getting ready for summer vacation and camp, it’s just been hectic. I’m juggling so much.  Finishing up work, setting up a preschool class, managing the daily chaos of being a mom, and somehow still trying to find time for me.

I’m constantly on the go. And while I love being there for my kids, sometimes I lose my emunah. I hear people around me saying, “You’re so strong.” “You’re so passionate.” “You have an incredible soul.” “You’re so brave.” And I love them for saying it. I need to hear it. But truthfully… sometimes it gets mentally draining.

Sometimes, I don’t want to be strong. I don’t want to be the woman who holds everything together. I just want to lie in bed and be held by someone, someone I love, and not feel like I have to hold it all myself. Sometimes I don’t want to be the independent woman who fights every day to rise above.

And then there are days when I wake up on the other side of bed. Days when I say, “You know what? I don’t need a man or a relationship. I have everything already.” I have my kids, a carrier, home, I have my parents. I have me. But then the ache creeps in again. Because the truth is I don’t want to be alone forever. And the longer I’m alone, the more comfortable I get… and the harder it feels to let anyone in.

I see my friends getting married, my family members finding their people and I’m genuinely happy for them. But a part of me still aches. Because I want that too. I want that happy ending. I want to feel love again. And sometimes this is when my  my faith starts fading away. I hear my friends talk about dating, about how hard it is. Nothing is clicking. The girls aren’t connecting with the guys, the guys aren’t loving the girls, no chemistry, no spark,  it’s all just so disappointing. And in my case, it’s a little more complicated. I’m divorced. I have three kids.

So when people tell me “you’ll find someone” I smile, I want to believe it. I do. But some nights, that hope feels really, really far. When it’s 2 a.m., even 3 a.m., and I still haven’t fallen asleep. My mind won’t shut off. The house is finally quiet, but my thoughts get louder I have to shift my mind somewhere else. I pour out my soul.

Sometimes I just sit up at night, look at the sky, and talk to Hashem. In those moments as painful as they are I still talk to Him. I let it all out even if I don’t hear a single answer, I remind myself that He’s still listening. And somehow,  that silence, feels like the safest place. No judgment. No noise. Just me and Him.

I lose emunah too. There are days I completely lose sight of it, and then I have to remind myself that it’s okay. I’m trying. I’m doing my best. 

So I go back to the things that ground me. I go to the gym to refocus on me and my goals. Sometimes I just need quiet. I need time to myself. I need to dance. I need to move my body. I want to feel strong again physically, emotionally. I want to build the body I’ve always dreamed of. I want to let out the energy I’ve been holding in.

And that’s when little pieces of my emunah start to return. Because even in the waiting, even in the loneliness I believe. I believe that one day, in the right time, I won’t have to carry it all alone. One day I’ll get to be strong with someone by my side. To laugh with. To grow with. To learn with. To love.

But until then I hold on to my emunah. I’m learning every day to be grateful for what I do have.

     Emunah