The Outsider

Having to dress up all week, I like to keep my weekends easy and natural. And in this shul, right on my block, the women’s section is sparsely populated, which suits all my requirements for a stress-free Shabbos morning trip.

One arbitrary week, I enter shul and take a seat in the close-to-empty women’s section. The chazzan begins, and I and the few other attendees daven the Shabbos morning tefillos.

As the davening progresses, I notice the ezras nashim beginning to fill. There’s a slight niggle in my chest. I feel uncomfortable, out of place, and shift over to a less conspicuous seat lest the seat I’d been occupying belonged to a real member of the shul.

I try to hide myself and focus solely on my prayers, though I’m conscious of every additional person who’s entering the shul. Shy by nature, and totally underdressed, I’m no match for the crowd beginning to surround me.