A few years ago, I went through a very complex divorce from my daughter's mother.
I hoped we could reach a divorce with a fundamental understanding that a war between us would primarily harm our daughter (and us, of course). I hoped this understanding would alleviate the inevitable pain and anxieties that are an integral part of this trauma, and that our responses to them (and other understandable feelings) would not result in mutual conflict. I believed that a divorce agreement that aimed to quickly lead all three of us to recover from this terrible experience was our best chance to raise a child as healthy and happy as possible.
I never deluded myself that this would be easy. It was clear to me that divorce is a conflict that pulls parents in exactly the opposite direction. I took into account that beyond the deep hurt, divorce is a very difficult transition from together to separate, that being alone in the world is harder and more dangerous than being in a couple, and that there are very concrete needs that require clear and secure solutions as much as possible. I prepared myself for difficult and meticulous discussions about schedules, living arrangements, money, and every issue that arises in the case of family dissolution.
But the truth is that the reason I entered these divorce proceedings was to escape an abusive relationship where my basic needs were consistently trampled; the hope that things would look different in divorce was quickly extinguished. The familiar dynamics from the marriage continued, and I was left with two options:
One option: embark on a bitter legal battle at the cost of very precious resources of money, time, and energy, with a low chance of success. The other option: give up a lot of money from the outset (an amount presented without any explanation at all, not even a calculation I could disagree with), and lose needs and rights that there's no justification to lose simply due to a decision to divorce. With either option – legal battle or concessions in the agreement – the result was that I would need to borrow money I don't have.
I was also required to sacrifice from my fatherhood – my time with my daughter, but there I managed to set a boundary. I didn't manage to get the full time we're naturally entitled to as father and daughter (that is, half the time), but I did include a clause that would lead to this in the not-distant future.
As when escaping a burning house, I understood that any delay by trying to save other things could jeopardize this precious achievement. So the moment I realized there was not and would not be a better solution available, I let go (with immense pain) and signed this divorce agreement – an imbalanced one with a clear side that demands and takes, and a clear side that commits and gives.
This was one of the hardest and most painful choices of my life. I knew years of hard work, belt-tightening, and probably scarcity were coming. I needed to believe I had the strength and tools to cope, and I hoped time and life would also surprise me for the better.
*
And life did surprise me for the better in many ways, but to meet the financial commitments I took on myself, I needed more of a miracle than a good surprise, and unfortunately, this specific miracle didn't occur.
I have a profession and an independent business. I work hard and earn from it, but unfortunately it's not enough, because the profits are used primarily to meet the demands of the agreement and to repay the accumulating loans I took when the business income wasn't sufficient. The practical outcome is that a hard and low glass ceiling hangs over my business: I have no profit margins I can reinvest in the business, eliminating its ability to grow, and as a result my ability to support my family is severely limited.
Over the years, I've strived to get out of this situation (efforts which have helped, but not enough), such as turning to Paamonim, professional training, business consulting, hiring employees, and more. But I haven't yet managed to reach the desired result of stability and a clear financial horizon. The only way out I see is turning for help here.
*
The ideal amount to raise is 400,000 NIS, according to the following breakdown:
250,000 NIS to close my open loans, the repayments of which already take up a few thousand shekels a month,
150,000 NIS to provide breathing room and to invest in my business and give it the opportunity to grow and move forward. I have every reason to believe this will happen.
The closer the amount I raise gets to the ideal sum - the easier it will be for me and my family. Every loan I manage to pay back (even partially) - will free up some of my monthly repayments. Every investment in my business will help it grow a little more and bring its profit closer to being able to securely provide for my basic needs and those of my family – something I currently see no way to finance without taking on additional loans.
*
I want to be a good, normal person, a citizen with equal rights and responsibilities. To enjoy the fruits of my labor, pay taxes, serve in the reserves (more than 200 days during the war), to be a father to my daughters, a present, supportive, and loving family member. Nothing more – but absolutely nothing less.
*
The campaign is being launched anonymously to protect my privacy and that of my family. Please help keep it this way.
