I used to think that the reason I say yes to people,  is because I am a good guy. The truth is that I was never taught to set boundaries. Healthy,  personal boundaries. 

I have known this, to some degree, for quite some time now. There’s this saying “understanding the problem is half the solution”. You see, I used to get into situations where I would end up doing something I don’t want to do, just because I couldn’t say no at the first time that the boundary was crossed. Instead of me reinforcing the boundaries, I would give the other person the green light to just step all over my personal boundaries. 

How did I end up staying married for 8 years, and had 3 kids, you would ask? Fucked up relationships with boundaries, that’s why!  I thought I was being the good guy, how very naive of me. I wasn’t a good guy when I was going along not to hurt her, I was actually being selfish. I say selfish, because it was my fear of confrontation, that made me live a lie. And ended up hurting her much more at the end, when I couldn’t take it anymore, and I had to leave. 

I have come to realise, that if I do something for someone, and I get upset afterwards about it, it would have been better if I haven’t helped them in the first place. In other words, by helping someone, I could actually be mean to them, because it leads to resentment afterwards. 

I am miles away from perfect, but I do consider myself a good guy. I try to work on myself and do what’s right, for myself, and for the people in my life. Learning to say no, in a nice way of course, is what has made me a better and more honest person/friend. I’m not there yet, but I know where I want to be, and I strive to get there. 

Honestly, when you break it down, it just boils down to plain and simple honesty. Most people don’t consider themselves liars. I remember discussing this, years ago, with a friend(acquaintance) that was known for his elaborate lying skills. I tried to be nice(pussy that is afraid of confrontation ūüėÄ) and said in a nice way that he is maybe sometimes exaggerating. He had no clue what I was talking about! And this is a guy that cannot complete a sentence without a lie.

If just for that, just for becoming a more honest, better version of myself, I left, dayenu.

Nobody wants to find themselves alone in the world, with no friends or family surrounding them. But as soon as I realised that being surrounded by family and friends, that I couldn’t be myself, couldn’t be honest, is quite frankly as if I have no one around me at tall. It might be even worse, one could argue. 

And yes, by being true to yourself, I might not be everyone’s cup of tea. But the tea that I do drink, tastes so delicious, it’s actually priseless.

A true friend is indeed priceless. I would rather be just with this one good friend, I was so blessed to meet after I left, than be with hundreds of friends and family.

And to all my friends, I’m sorry if I hurt you in the past, but I’m more sorry for the hurt I will cause you in the future, while I’m figuring shit out. 




“Would you have left, if you would’ve been happily married?” that’s a question I get asked a lot. The honest truth is that I probably wouldn’t have, but I’m glad that my choice was made easier for me.

The thing is, I used to lie to myself, trying desperately to convince myself that I was happily married. Don’t get me wrong, my soon to be ex was a good wife, an eishes chayil, a wonderful mother to the kids, and ran the household like clockwork. We just weren’t meant for each other. 

There are many people, in the community still, that are peeping out through the cracks, tempted to take that leap of faith. I get quite a few people, mainly online with fake Facebook profiles, asking me if they should leave. They want to know if it is worth it. Do you ever regret it? They would ask. 

My answer usually consists of something like, “if you still asking me, then you shouldn’t do it”. If you are still weighing up the pros and cons of leaving, don’t do it, yet. 

For me personally, leaving has been the best decision I’ve ever made. But that’s not because of the amazing food, sex or other experiences I was lucky to experience. It was about taking ownership of my life, it was about finding out who Moishy is. I knew he was in there. But to be honest, I didn’t know how lucky I was when I finally made the decision to leave. It’s only now after 2 years, I have really come to appreciate how lucky I am. 

I was born on that Sunday, the 20th December ’15, the day I packed, just one,  suitcase with some clothing and my laptop. The moment I posted the keys in the house, and said a silent goodbye to the house. My children weren’t there, when I left. We didn’t want to make it to hard for them, I sat them down in the morning, gave them all a small present, and told them tutty is going to live somewhere else for a while, but tutty loves you all very much, and he will talk to you on the phone everyday. I wrote down my mobile number for my eldest, and told her to call whenever she wants to. I also told them that I will see them on Sundays and some weekends. My ex just left the house with them and told me to be gone by 2pm, before she comes home with the kids. I started packing, feeling a mixture of excitement and fear, but when I posted those keys into the letterbox, I felt so calm, I knew that moment that I did the right decision. I was re-born that moment! 

Being reborn in Britain, as a 30 year old male, is not easy, but O so worth it. My life! My choices! My mistakes! I’m not saying that everything from my past is bad, I was simply not alive back then. 

OTD poster boy 

I started writing this blog when I had a bad day. To be honest, I didn’t know why I was writing it, and to whom I was writing it.

I’m sitting in my car again, I know, it’s bad, but it’s a place where it’s just me, my thoughts, and social media of course ūüė°. I’m struggling to write, even though I have a picture in my head of what I want to say. What I want to say is actually the reason I’m finding it hard to write this.

One of the first question I keep hearing over and over again from people, mainly from religious people, like old friends and relatives is, “will you be happier?” or now it is more like, “are you happier now?”. I keep hearing my father’s words, the words he used to try and persuade me to change my mind, when he came to visit me with my mum. “You will end up like a dog in the streets and no one will care” followed up by, “and they will be right not to”. 

My mum asked me the other day “what’s happening with the credit cards you promised us?”. I always used to tell my siblings that I will be rich one day, and I will give them all credit cards.  You see, in my family, they very much believe in living a torah life, in which the husband sits and learns all day, and the wife has to work, pop out babies,  and do the majority of the household work! It was always difficult for me to comprehend how someone would go and have so many children when they can barely afford a 2 bed flat. Not knowing where they will take the money to pay for the extravagant weddings, they will have to make for their kids, when they will get married. How can a parent do that to a child? Back to the phone conversation I was having with my mum recently, I told her that this is not my dream anymore, I have no desire to be rich. I just want to live my life as a free man, and be happy with the little things that life has to offer me. I explained to her, that my desire to be rich was only because I felt trapped in a world with no way out, and money was the only thing that seemed to have the power to lift some of the pressure. It’s like when you’re  in prison, you can bribe the guards if you are wealthy, likewise in the community, you get certain liberties by having money. You can enjoy more of what the world has to offer without the fear of repercussion. Right now I have that, I am free, and I am happier than I ever was. Being rich is not what I need now to bring me serenity. “I am happy that you think that you are happy”, she said,  while holding back her tears.

One of the ways the community uses to discourage people from leaving, is by painting horror stories about the people that did leave. They are all mental cases, miserable drug addicts that just want to have fun, have orgies and die of an overdose or by suicide, they would say. 

Most of the things I do in life, have more than one factor that contribute to me making that decision. What I keep trying to do, is figure out what factors are valid, and which are not only not valid, but actually harmful to me.  

My therapist said something to me last week. I’ve been seeing her for about 2 years. I told her at our first session that I don’t really believe in therapy, but I want to give it a try. So far all the therapist I’ve gone to, have been booked by my father, to cure me, and that did make me realise that this time I was choosing it. She has actually been amazing, and helped so much to get where I am today. 

“You don’t have to be the OTD poster boy” she said, last week as I got up to leave. It was just one line, but it struck a chord with me. I left the community because I wanted to live life, my way. Not to please anyone, just do what makes me happy, and makes me enjoy this one life I have!

As I’m healing, and getting more in touch with my feelings, I do experience pain, it’s a process, or to be even more clich√©, it’s a journey, my journey, Moishy’s journey! Life isn’t always rosy, there are ups and downs, and yes I’m not afraid to say when things are a bit shitty. And I will not let that stop me from becoming who I want to be, the best version of myself. 

One thing,  I never think that the Charedi world ever fully understand. I, and I think most people who had the gigantic kahunas to leave that God-forsaken hellhole, will agree with me on this one. I would rather be that dog on the street, then go back to that place!

You don’t have to be the OTD poster boy! 


Papi thinks he loves me…¬†

I met up with a close friend after work for a quick chat, she knows how to make me laugh. 

Music blasting, Celebration box of chocolates in the passenger seat, it was blissful, and I was happy. But then the phone(handsfree)  rings, on the screen it says ‘Shmuel Leib Wajnsztok’, TrueCallerūüėä. It was strange as my mom already called this morning at work, she needed my signature for something, and they usually never call. I quickly deduced that it’s probably my dad, and he wants to wish me a happy new year. I hesitated for a second, I haven’t spoken to him in a while, and I knew what to accept but I didn’t realise how much it will hurt, I knew it would make me highly uncomfortable, but I wasn’t ready for more.

I parked on the side of the road, a few minutes after I put down the phone with him. It fucking hurts, and I don’t know why. Why do I give a shit? He started the phone call, very awkwardly, with, “hello Moishy, it’s papi, I am calling to wish you a kseeve vachaseeme toive. He reminded me to the times I had to call my uncle, that I never see, to console him after his wife died of cancer. Now bear in mind that he’s a rabbi, and much older than me. That’s exactly how he sounded. I tried to lighten the mood by saying, “vus hert zich” (what’s news?), he ignored me, and said I want to wish you to have a good, blessed year. So far so good, right? Well he had to fuck it up like he always does. He went on with blessing me with “Yiddish” nachas, for me and for the kids. And of course for him and my mom too. He is sure of it! He will still see nachas from me, Yiddish nachas. He repeated that a few times, and when I didn’t answer a resounding amen, he asked “are you there?” 

Papi thinks he loves me… 

Late hours in my car 

When your mind goes blank. 
I’m sitting in my car, parked outside my flat, for a while now and somehow can’t leave, or rather, don’t want to leave. It’s like there is a blockage in my brain, something in there that doesn’t want me to think.
I want to think. I want to be able to organise my thoughts. I want clarity.

Maybe switching of the music and writing down my ramblings will help. The sound of the rain is distracting me, it’s like my brain is using excuses.

There is one thing I know, I want to live, not just survive.

My mind is still blank… 


When the uncertainty in so many areas of my live starts to be a bit overwhelming, all I have to do is remind myself,  how fucked up a life that everything is planned out for is. It brings me back to when my friend visited me in the new house me and my stbx have just bought. I gave him a tour around the house, then he looked at me, and said “that’s it, this is the place you will be picked up to go to Enfield(Jewish cemetery)” . Every aspect of my(our) life was planned out, even my burial place! Life was boring.

I embrace the uncertainty and all the possibilities that comes with it.

Life is beautiful…