Wandering in the Desert

Written by Ambi Sitham. Ambi, a first-time Jewrotica writer, was born and raised in London to immigrant parents from Sri Lanka. She is a lawyer cum expert commentator, author and host and currently lives in Los Angeles.

Wandering in the Desert is the third of four essays that Ambi is writing for Jewrotica and is a continuation of The Mensch. Her series of essays chronicle her love affair with all things Jewish from innocent beginnings as a twelve-year-old schoolgirl to a long-term relationship with a Jewish man that she considers one of the great loves of her life to flirting with the idea of conversion. The break-up of that relationship was followed by a continued strong mutual attraction to Jewish men throughout her life, which after one passionate fling led her to a spiritual path that resulted in the unlikeliest of realizations about her true passion for all things Jewish. This passion, in truth, is esoteric rather than erotic.

Wandering in the Desert

Despite it being my decision, I was truly heartbroken over the break up with the Mensch. I had lost not only my boyfriend and potential soulmate, but also my best friend. And suddenly I found myself traversing an unfamiliar worlds – singledom, and the glamorous and cutthroat media world – that was the antithesis of my low key existence of coupledom for the previous five years.

Despite feeling like I stuck out like a sore thumb in my cheap, cheerful (and somewhat geeky) tailor-made suits that the Mensch and I had made in Vietnam whilst backpacking, I threw myself into my new life with gusto and soon began to tap into a side of myself that I had never thought I possessed before – a foxy side. Despite viewing myself as a wide-eyed nerd, I soon began to realise that others considered me to be rather endearing, exotic and dare I say even attractive. My confidence grew as I began to slowly tap into this side of myself, the opportunities it presented and people it brought into my life… but despite finding it exciting, I soon found it was a bit like swimming with sharks.

As thrilling as it was, I expended a lot of energy trying to avoid being nipped. Professionally, I was meeting a whole host of powerful media tycoons and was amazed at how quickly I formed strong bonds with them – not only professionally, but personally (and I ought to add – platonically).

Powerful men twice my age from different worlds, who, along with clients, became my friends and mentors (and remain so many years later). Was it a coincidence that these individuals were predominantly Jews? I don’t know, but my new alliances did not go unnoticed by my colleagues and bosses. After handling one particularly difficult client, my boss (I think somewhat irritated that I had succeeded where he failed) turned around and snorted, “Anyone would think you were the Queen of fucking Sheba the way you turned that around.” I giggled in response not really knowing who the Queen of Sheba was but rushing back to my desk to Google her.

Meanwhile, in my personal and social life, I was firmly ensconced back in the bagel belt of the North West London scene. Whilst some of my friends were also experiencing post university breakups, many were also taking their relationships to the next level: moving in together/getting engaged etc. Despite part of me loving being back in such a familiar setting, in many ways I felt like more of an outsider looking in and was seeking something different. Also, perhaps there were too many painful memories and ties to my lost love. The Mensch and I continued to have occasional contact, but each time it felt like pulling off the scab of a wound that was healing only for it to bleed and hurt all over again. I had thoughts of reconciliation but knew deep down that they were selfish, and didn’t come from the right place.

Eventually I cut him off completely – in a seemingly brutal way. In doing so I learnt what it was to truly love someone and wanting the best for them, beyond your own self-serving desires. In this case it was to let him go and be with someone who loved him the way that he loved me. Despite it being my decision it was extremely painful, and in order to heal from it for the next few years I threw myself into catching up with the dating that most people do at university. Fun and frolics were had as well as lessons learnt, and at times I thought I had discovered meaningful relationships – but looking back, whilst they were certainly part of my journey, they weren’t a scratch on the love that I had experienced with the Mensch. I felt like I kept trying to fit square pegs into round holes and there was a sense of frustration and emptiness that loitered within.

Years passed and I found myself approaching my late twenties feeling slightly jaded with what I had now discovered was a cutthroat, incestuous media world with nests of vipers at every turn. I felt it was time to swing solo and set up my own legal consultancy with ambitious plans for creative projects, too. The last thing I was looking for was a serious boyfriend. After years of dallying with media types, I was dating a financial-whizz-kid-city-type who was seriously smart and a refreshing change. Dates with him were fun and different and passed the time in the busy early first few days of my business, but I never felt that we really clicked.

And as that fizzled out, I met the Hunter. English, boarding-school-educated, farmer’s son – whilst I didn’t know exactly who would be the right fit for me, I knew that the Hunter definitely was not right – and was initially completely dismissive of him. But like the Hunter he was, he pursued me – and his wooing and persistence beat my resistance and. Before I knew it, I was swept into the honeymoon period of the early days of our relationship.

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