Sami always drove me home in his cab, stopping a block before we got to my seminary and double parking. He would push the hazard lights on and then he’d get out of the car, meeting me on the passenger side, where we’d stand, leaning against the car and making out while the car lights flashed on and off like a metronome. We tried to time it so that I’d get back right at four in the morning when the security guard shift was changing. Both guards would go into the office for a few minutes to fill out paperwork and smoke out the back window. I’d hurry up the stairs to my room then, leaving my clothes in a puddle at the foot of my bed and tucking myself under my blanket, cell phone under my pillow with its alarm on high so that I’d wake up in time for my first class.
I could never get to sleep right away. I’d lie awake for a while, wondering what was changing about me that I was able to ignore the wrongness of a Orthodox Jewish girl with an Arab man.
I thought of the girls in seminary who were considered rebels. You could tell who they were because their rooms always smelled like burning hair. These girls straightened their hair using expensive electric hair irons with stainless steel handles and cords that were always wrapping themselves around chair legs. They were beautiful in a dark way, the kind of girls who smiled without showing any teeth, and whose laughter would crawl up your spine like fingers. They were the daughters of rabbis and principals, or their parents had made millions from old age homes. They came back to the dorms in the middle of the night smelling like vodka and hookah.
In class they pretended to pay attention, but it was a joke to them, and they’d smirk through lectures, drawing geometric patterns in the margins of their notebooks. At night they sat outside the ice cream shops on Ben Yehuda Street, flirting with boys from the rehab yeshivas, skirts exposing inches of clean smooth knee when they crossed their legs, necklines plunging with their reputations. Though they all had pretty Hebrew names they went by shortened masculine nicknames like Sam and Jo and Al. When it got late enough, and there was no risk of the wrong rabbi happening by, you could find them kissing their deviant boyfriends, or getting high in the back streets of the Old City, laughing at Israeli sports on TV, and playing with some boy’s tsitsis in a way that was meant to be distracting.
My brother had warned me against becoming any of those girls, but those nights when the feeling of Sami’s breath hung heavily over me, I lay in bed composing e-mails to Ari that I’d never send. So, I found a real Israeli, as long as Arab-Israelis count. He feels real to me, Ari. He has big hands, and a soft voice, and he says things like, “I thought about you all day,” whenever I see him. Sometimes it does feel wrong, but sometimes it doesn’t. And I can’t tell anymore if I even like him. He’s nice in the way nice is supposed to be. He says things no one else says to me. Is this worse than being a stupid superficial girl?
Celebrating 10 Years & Marking the End of An Amazing Project
Celebrating 10 Years & Marking the End of An Amazing Project
The Jewrotica event “Evening of Jewrotica: Bedside Reading” was awesome. As Master of Confessions, I got to read the deepest, darkest secrets of people in the room out loud… It was scintillating, titillating, and – yes – even educational!
What an incredible night Jewrotica was!!!! There was this fantastic moment, in a sea of Jews of all sexualities, ages, backgrounds and denominations, that I realized we were all in this together! I hope that there are many more events coming to Austin soon!
I love the inclusiveness – there is something for everyone, in and out of the Jewish community.
I stepped out of my comfort zone to be a part of this. I was glad to open up the topic of sexuality in my community. We are trying to build a safe space to talk about sex. The result I am most happy about coming from this event is that hopefully now my friends know they can come and talk to me, that I can be their ‘safe space’.
Jewrotica is something that the community has needed for a long time so that people can actually learn, express and share and have good relationships without having to stumble through life. Check out the site and learn something. Have fun!
Jewrotica is awesome. It expands the mind and for people who were raised with narrow views on sexuality. Whether you are Jewish or not, or in different sects of Judaism like Orthodox, Conservative or Reform, no matter what your background or where you’re from, Jewrotica gets you to see Judaism and how it relates to sexuality in new ways. I really appreciate Ayo being here and helping us learn different ways to connect with our sexuality.
Jewrotica is inspiring Jews and erotica with holiness and coolness, and is the pride of progressive Judaism. Jewrotica – awesome!
Bedside Reading with Jewrotica was funny, sexy, and hot all at once. The readings were honest about all kinds of sexuality, but the highlight of the evening was definitely the confessions, written by audience participants. Nobody knew who wrote them, and most were tell-alls that would make your bubbe blush. Unless your bubbe was very, very cool. Then maybe she’d make YOU blush!
Jewrotica was everything I had dreamed of and more: sexy attendees, tantalizing confessions, and well-written literature to boot! More importantly, it empowers us Jews to reach inside and own our sexy selves and heritage!
I’m into Jewrotica. I went in for my second circumcision.
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