—-this piece is actually printed this month on the coolest feminist zine in Jerusalem: Fallopian Felafel. I am honored to write for this cool ass zine. Check it out!—-

I’m 27 and getting divorced. I’m bitter and angry. But I wasn’t always this way…

Growing up, my favorite Disney movie was The Little Mermaid. Ariel (previously spelled Arielle like my besty) the mermaid wasn’t your typical Disney princess. She wore less clothes, always revealing a flat stomach (obviously!) and her belly button (racy!). She was also rebellious and adventurous, thoughtful and fierce. I identified with her curiosity and struggle to break a mold created for her. At that young age the symbolism of her main conflict, having given voice to the sea witch in exchange for a chance to be with the man she loved, was lost on me.

It no longer is.

I had a feminist upbringing and I undeniably identify as a feminist to the core of my being. But for some reason, those damn Disney princesses and their fairytale stories got into my head. At the age of 23 I got swept up by a “prince” and all of a sudden I wanted it all- the long hair, the red apple, the castle, the glass slipper, the land-legs.

And without even realizing it, I slowly gave over my voice in exchange for the man I thought I loved. I sort of fell into a deep, long sleep and I awoke only to find myself locked in the tallest tower.

In marriage and in Israeli divorce, I was and remain silenced. The wedding was a blur, the importance of my career and skills were sidelined for talk of babies and family. My dreams of traveling were shushed. My work was ignored. Our fights got worse. I was told what and when to eat, how much to spend, when to come and go, and all of my actions were monitored.

I didn’t talk about what I was experiencing. In fact, I was barely consciously experiencing what I was experiencing. But little by little, the reality hit me. My prince had turned into the evil sea witch, with my voice in his hands. The villain lived with me, in my house, and controlled my actions, my thoughts, and my feelings.

By the time I got the courage and resolve to leave, I had become totally dependent on him. But when I chose to take my voice back, I lost my prince, my sea witch, the magic villain, my crutch. I had to relearn how to do everything. I did. I bought tools, I created a home, I paid bills, I made decisions. I put one foot in front of another and I crawled until I could walk and run… on my own, self-acquired, self-sustained land-legs.

In Israel, when a Jewish woman marries a Jewish man, she gives over her autonomy as an independent citizen, in accordance with state law, which is based on rabbinic law. As long as things are going well for you as a couple, this doesn’t effect you at all. But the second you want out- separation and divorce- you can try and open your mouth but the screams will not be heard. And the evil sea witch- whether your ex or your neighborhood Haredi rabanut- has a tight hold on your voice. Even in the “secular” court system, you cannot divorce without a get from the man in the rabanut, and so a husband has no motivation to give a get and is allowed to refuse a woman a get until he receives all of his financial demands in the other court. In certain situations, you cannot change your name back, or gain full, autonomic control over your car insurance and other service providers without proof of divorce.

I don’t know what will be in the next few months and years with my divorce. But I do know for sure that if it’s not me, it will be another woman who is refused a get, delayed, and possibly tortured by the system.

You see, my life has become a bit more complicated than a Disney movie. My divorce, the main conflict of my current plot, is not going to be resolved within the next 90 minutes. But I am sure that I am not the only one who watched Disney movies as a girl and subconsciously tried to fix my daddy-issues with a prince, new glass slippers and a song.

There is no shame in dating or marrying the wrong man. Everyone makes mistakes. And the culture and the system does not make it easy for you leave. In fact, as a woman going through a divorce, I often feel like the ministry of interior, the rabanut, the court and the police conspire to make women pay for leaving their husbands. My conspiracy theory may be accurate, or it may not. It doesn’t matter. As hard as it is to leave the man and family you thought you loved, it becomes as hard to change your name, keep your assets, schedule the next few years of your life, and move on. But it is worth it. It will be worth it.

Because freedom from an unhappy future is priceless. You can and you must have the strength to leave if you want to. Get help: therapy, a social worker, a women’s organization, a friend or family member. Gather your resources, your strength and your thoughts. When you’re ready, trust me, it will be hard but not harder than staying. The worst moments after leaving are better than the best moments if you had stayed in an oppressive, abusive or unhappy marriage.

Marriage between a man and a woman has enough proponents: magazines, TV, Disney, your mother, my grandmothers, religion, state. I am here to applaud divorce when it needs to happen. When you know that the choice is between him and you– stay and give your life and fate over to him or leave and salvage you– choose you.

Always choose you, princess!