I’m writing this blog post because I know that it is easier than having the conversation 100 times with 100 people. I’ve already told a few people personally and it’s exhausting; I simply cannot endure going through it with every person I know so my solution was to issue a sort of statement that would explain it all.

To begin with, Ben is a very good man. I married him because I recognized the qualities he had weren’t found in many people. Unfortunately, that’s the wrong reason to marry someone, at least it was wrong for me. When I was depressed in Israel, I hoped and prayed that it was because I was isolated and alone, but the truth is that my heart knew I had made a mistake even if my brain hadn’t caught up. I knew there were a lot of things we had to work on, but I did not see this coming. After being back in Israel for about 10 days and feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders, I just started talking and the end of that conversation led to an agreement to end things. He didn’t cry, or ask me to reconsider. He accepted how I felt and it was that simple. He drove me to the airport, wished me well and I got on the plane.

My heart felt like it had been smashed. I feel supremely embarrassed because I know there are so many people in both of our worlds who said, “Are you sure? Are you sure? Are you sure?” And I had to reassure all of them, “Yes, Yes, of course!” But, I was wrong. Now I have to stand before everyone I know, who just stood at my wedding 9 months ago, and tell them, “I was wrong.” So, this is me saying it: I was wrong. It’s quite the failure. After having the wedding of my dreams, it turned out not to be such a fairytale and I’m afraid I knew it, but refused to see what was so obviously staring at me in the face.

I feel so guilty even though I didn’t set out to do this and I’m not sure that I really even hurt Ben, but this guilt is going to just about kill me. It’s different from a break up. When I’ve broken up with boyfriends, I’ve felt embarrassment, maybe, but never guilt. The few friends I’ve spoken with have given me good advice. So did the man at the airport that I was talking to (Mike from Indiana) who said that it’s better to stop and admit that I made a mistake now than in 10 years when I’ve got kids and a whole set of problems that aren’t so easy to fix. I know they’re right, but that doesn’t really make me feel better.

I’m afraid that people are going to judge me, and I know they will because I’ve been on this other side of this and judged someone. I’m afraid of people disliking me because of what I’ve done, even though I know if a friend suddenly wasn’t my friend because of this that I didn’t really need them anyway. Maybe these fears are irrational, but I can’t stand the idea of cynical people whispering behind my back about how they saw this coming or aren’t surprised. I have to stop thinking about it, because it’s gnawing away at my flattened heart. I’m afraid of the disapproval of my friends and family. I feel like I’ve disappointed my parents who put so much into my wedding, helping me through my depression and paying for so much and it’s all come to nothing. There is nothing that provides solace. I just have to live with it.

Before I left for Israel, I was really defining who I was as a Jew. When I was with Ben, I had a particular idea because so much of what we were going to be dictated how I was going to live. I kept kosher, we would go to an Orthodox synagogue, have a kosher home, send our kids to Jewish school, have the boys brits in Israel, raise our children with the idea of fighting in the Israeli army, mastering the Hebrew language. Now, I have to go through the process of redefining myself again. What kind of Jewish life do I want to live? How am I going to do that? Will I continue to keep kosher? Will I continue to study Hebrew? What synagogue will I go to? It almost feels like too big of a task to take on, but there’s a hungry part of me urging myself to eat a cheeseburger. I’m just not sure if I was keeping kosher just for Ben anymore, or if it’s because I thought it was the right thing to do.

It’s a challenge to go about my business and not be reminded of the new path I’ve chosen. Certain songs are off limits right now. I was eating porridge at the airport in London and it came with honey. Dvash means honey. My eyes welled up with tears. I certainly cannot stop eating honey. Our wedding albums were never printed, but they are paid for, what should I do about them? I know that each day something new and unexpected will crop up to remind me of what I’ve done, but I can’t just avoid them. So everyday I’m going to be presented with my epic failure. Awesome. I know it’s a consequence of the choice I’ve made and I have to confront all of the consequences with a heart that accepts what I’ve done and move forward.

Now that I’m home, I’m faced with a new to-do list. Everything I had planned for my lifetime has changed. I can erase the sticky note on my desktop of kid’s names that we liked, since I don’t think it matters anymore. Everything we’d been working towards for a life in LA was centered around a lot of variables that don’t exist anymore. I can move anywhere. I can do anything. There is so much freedom that I just don’t even know where to start. This part is actually exciting beyond anything I’ve experienced before. It’s really a new start and this is what I’m trying to focus on right now, in part that I don’t want to think about everything else that I have to do to stop being Mrs. Dvash.

The last thing I want to write is a request. Please don’t talk to me about this. Unless you want a nuclear meltdown from me, please just pretend it didn’t happen. The reason I’m writing this post in the first place is to address everyone who cares to let them know the full story: I just wasn’t in love with my husband and I couldn’t live another day of life pretending that something good was going to come out of it. If you worry about me, please put me in your prayers. But, the sympathy is too much for me to bear. I am talking to people, but I just can’t talk to everyone like I usually do about the minutiae of my life. If you see me, please don’t ask me how I’m doing or use a concerned tone. I’m excited about this silly plan I’ve created for the next chapter in my life and I’ll talk about that, but for right now, until my bacon cheeseburger and calamari party, please don’t press me to discuss it.

I appreciate all of you who took the time to read this and who care. If there is something you feel needs to be said, please leave a comment. I will read them and respond. For now, this is the only communication I feel like participating in. I hope you can understand and respect how I feel, what I need and what I’m going through. I want to go away for a long time, come back like a new person and start over. That’s just completely unrealistic, so this is what I’m doing instead.

Thank you, again and in advance, for your understanding. I’ll be fine. I’m going to make it. I do need my friends and family, but the first couple of weeks are going to be almost too much to bear. I hope none of you reading this will ever have to empathize with me.