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Writer's pictureBriyah Paley

Dear Ninky

Updated: Jan 23, 2022

Today‘s dress is vintage from Maggy Boutique. I can‘t remember where I bought it, and I know I’ve never worn it. But I love it. It’s velvet, a word that sounds too much like velveeta to me. Snow is lightly falling outside. It’s so different to the sunshine and warmth I felt last week in Costa Rica. My purple car is parked right outside my building. I haven’t driven lately. I only move it for street cleaning. Yesterday I got my test results. I don’t have Covid anymore. I do have antibodies. I am healthy and strong. But my heart is aching. So here’s the best way I know how to do something about it. I’ve always used writing as a tool to repair things that are broken. I can’t fix this broken world, but I can keep trying to work on myself and apologize to those I hurt. Dear Naamah,

today Margot is 6 months old. Sweet little Margot. I love her so much. Everyone says she looks like me. I hope she’ll have such a happy life. I hope she doesn’t struggle or make you sad. But I see that hardships are a part of life and what matters most is how you recover from them. I’ll be honest. I’m so tired of trying to recover. Every single morning at 10am I go on a womens call for sex and love addiction. Over 100 women are on the call each day, describing how hard life has been and continues to be. But there are pearls of hope. I come for the hope. Sometimes I even offer it myself. last week I returned from an amazing trip to Costa Rica. I was with like minded people who are all on a journey of healing. It felt so far from NYC. It felt so far from the hardships of Covid and the divisions between us all. This has become such a political and ugly space to live in. I thought getting vaccinated would really help, but it hasn’t seemed to. A few friends on my retreat got Covid. They all felt fine, but rules are rules. There were taken out of our safe bubble and went into quarantine. I spent the next few days worried that I wouldn’t be able to get home. What would happen to me? But I tested negative and flew back home. I had mild symptoms but they were nearly gone. I went about my life. A few days later i saw a testing site near my apartment. There was no wait so I thought, sure why not? I didn’t feel sick anymore, but I was curious. I went about my life. I went to Brooklyn to a beautiful full moon circle with other Jews. We sang, drummed and laughed. Everyone was happy. There were no masks. I went to sleep that night in our parents bed. I woke up, excited to see you and the kids. I had missed you. Since you said we were meeting outdoors and I knew I wouldn’t be touching any of you, I didn’t think I needed to mention the Covid test. I certainly had no symptoms, or I wouldn’t have been out. I had tested negative just a few days earlier! I didn’t think I had any reason to be worried or to worry others. I saw you for an hour. I went to therapy. Then I went home. I woke up to news of a positive test. I still wasn’t worried. I don’t trust tests all that much and it had been a few days. I knew I wasn’t sick. But I posted on social media anyway. I wanted people to know that Covid doesn’t have to be so scary. I’ve had common colds that were way worse! It didn’t even occur to me that you would be upset. And that was my big mistake. I didn’t consider you. I certainly didn’t consider Stephen. I try and stay as far out of his way as I can. I don’t know why he dislikes me so much. Maybe I’ll never know. Maybe he doesn’t even know. I’ve cried many tears over it. It sucks. Having BPD also sucks. I push people away and then I try and pull them back in. Many don’t come back. So I try and make new friends, until the cycle repeats. I’m always worried about losing people. I’ve been worried about losing you my whole life. I’ve done many things to try and ruin our relationship. I don’t need to list them here. We have a history of difficult sister relationships on both sides. Daddy and nancy didn’t speak for many years. Louisa and Maddie also didn’t speak until deel died and then all was forgiven. buba didn’t speak to any of her siblings. And we all know how Leah is. I don’t want that to be our fate. And I want to be close to Isaac and Margot. we don't agree on many things, Covid being one of them. I’ve broken the rules and you’ve kept them. It’s the same in life. You did everything you were supposed to do. You got married, held a job, had a perfect son and daughter. You’re responsible. A good friend and a good citizen. I’ve run away. I’ve given the finger to society on more than one occasion. I’ve had more toxic relationships than I can remember. I’ve rebelled. I even got sent to the hospital last year for making a poor decision with LSD, and my boyfriend went to jail. These are not things to be proud of. I keep saying I want a drama free life but I clearly don’t. We are so different. It’s easy to be resentful of you, my little sister who doesn’t make obvious, bold mistakes. I feel like I constantly get it wrong. I’m always screwing up. I’m really hard on myself. Yesterday, after reading your email, where you said I endangered your family, I walked around Union square, crying. I kept looking for hope, for beauty, for blessings. My phone was dying and I walked to the apple store. I didn’t even know that you can’t just go into the apple store now, because of Covid fears. I really feel like I’m living in 2 different worlds. The world where people are worried and the one where they are not. I’ve never been good at multi tasking. I get easily confused about which world I’m in. There’s so much back and forth. I definitely got it wrong last Sunday when I chose to see you. As soon as I got my negative Covid test yesterday, I went deep into Brooklyn for my weekly women‘s class. We are reading the gates of trust. Yesterday you said you can’t trust me anymore. But in fact I’m learning about trust. I was finally able to attend the class in person. The teacher, Esther, hugged me as I sobbed. I told her I think I’m a bad person. Who else would endanger their family like I did? Who else would beg God to give them Covid and end all the suffering? She told me that I’m not a bad person. But I don’t really believe it yet. I’ll write more about the book tomorrow. It’s fascinating. Why do the righteous suffer and the wicked prosper? What is god trying to say? Preserve your health but know that it is from god. Bitachon is no excuse to be reckless with your life. If god can take care of the entire universe, He can take care of you. I have a lot to learn still. A lot. I can’t tell you that I know the answer on how to move forward. How to get you to trust me. I have to work on my trust of others also. I don’t trust you either, although I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because you married Stephen. But I will work on it, because not working on it doesn’t seem like a good option. For many years I lived very far away. My best friends have encouraged me to leave again. They don’t like who I’ve become when I’m in NYC. My mood changes. My hope dwindles. My light diminishes. I hope it’s just temporary. I mainly moved back to NY to watch my nephew grow up. And now my niece. But you might not even be here much longer. I have pictures of us around my apartment. One of us on grandmas bed. You’re looking right into the camera and I’m staring off into the distance. We are so different. But maybe we can learn from one another. I know you have a lot to offer. I think I do also. Remember a few months ago, dancing at Gabe’s wedding? and we looked directly at each other with the biggest smiles. That was such a happy moment. I love looking into the kids’ faces and seeing you in them. im pretty sure I won’t have kids of my own, but I just love them. Children are so innocent. They don’t have to deal with crushed dreams and Covid fears like we do. During the ayahuasca ceremonies, I talked to my inner child a lot. That child who was so angry, abusive and scared. What did she need that she didn’t get? I watched as my peers struggled to move off their mattresses. some needed help going to the bathroom. How was I OK? I thought about asking for help just to make sure it was all real. But I knew I could do it. In a room full of 90 people, I felt the strongest. Today I feel sad and weak. I messed up. I’m a bad person. I have no respect for others. Is that true? I have to look myself in the mirror, with all my faults, and tell myself that it’s not too late. That I can learn how to do better. That I want to do better. That I don’t want my little sister naamah to be hurt. That I’d do anything in this world to protect you, like you’d protect your children. We don’t know the future. This might not work out. But just for today I choose to believe it will. I choose love and hope again. I don’t want conflict and anger and war. There’s enough of it in the world. In our blood. In our extended family. There’s no law that we have to be close, or even in touch. But I hope we will be. I hope someday Stephen feels love towards me. I love him but I’m scared of him. im scared he has the power to take you and the kids away from me. To banish me from your lives. So I ask hashem for help. To heal us. for another chance and more after that. For peace and forgiveness. For the ability to move from one world into another with ease. To not trigger you with senseless social media posts. For beauty and laughter and baby cuddles. And baby dresses. after the trust class, I went to the upper west Side. The train was delayed because someone was struck on 125th. I journaled. I went to fairway. Remember all those trips to that fairway? I went to the west side judaica store and cried some more. Shlomo told me I’d be ok. I went to a Kurt Vonnegut celebration at symphony space. I was a bit distracted but I loved it. I got on the m60 to go home and talked to Gerald, the driver, the entire trip from right where we grew up to where I currently live. Bus drivers are such good people. I love hearing their stories. I am reminded of the good in the world. I ate a donut, which helped too. I think I’ve lived a lot in denial. They say that stands for Don’t Even Know I am Lying. It’s true. I don’t always know when I’m lying. Scary. Yesterday, an anonymous reader of this blog wrote me a message. He or she had very good insight. “I have this idea that you would be more satisfied and less confused with your relationships if you focused on understanding people's feelings and didn't worry so much about being right. It doesn't matter if you are right. Part of loving is listening, and it honestly sounds like this part is hard for you. The irony is, when you stop worrying about being right, you usually end up less wrong.” Thank you, reader.

I am sorry. I do love you. I will keep trying.

Love,

Briyah Ariel

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