identity.

my babushka was born to speak Yiddish at home. and outside she used to speak broken Belo/Russian.

my mama learned to understand her mom’s language. but she has to speak Russian inside and out.

Russian is my first language. later, my second one, Belorussian, was not broken at all. i took pride in it. until it became useless.

when i was 15 i had to learn a new language. Hebrew was as foreign as it was easy.

stuck between two of my main languages, my mother’s Slavic and my own Semitic, when i express myself on the level that requires removing layers, (not)strangely, i prefer using one that has no profound meaning for me. even though all three of them are equally imperfect.