The short version of my story is this: I married a raging grandiose narcissist. The relationship was toxic and abusive, caused me to lose a lot of myself, and he will never let me go.
But still, I went.
I struggled to obtain my freedom and be considered single again by Jewish Law… It was a long, long journey, and I explored all the avenues available to me. Baruch Hashem, I finally got my p’tur from the International Beit Din.
The following details the different efforts I made to receive my Get.
This story is shared in the Agunah’s own words and reflects her personal experiences. The views expressed do not necessarily represent the opinions or positions of Get Jewish Divorce Justice.
Jews can go to a courthouse and get a marriage certificate. They can go to family court and file for divorce. However, neither of those documents is recognized by Jewish Law. According to Jewish Law, they would be neither married or divorced if they did so.
A married woman by Jewish Law cannot have any kind of romantic relationship with any man besides her husband. The consequences to doing so are particularly severe in Jewish Law and may have far reaching repercussions for her descendants forever. (The consequences for a man are less far-reaching.) If she had a religious marriage ceremony, but did not have a religious divorce ceremony, she is considered still married.
I was never legally married. My wedding ceremony was a religious Jewish one, and the divorce I sought was a religious Jewish Divorce- it’s called a Get.
You can only get one of those in a Jewish court- a Beit Din.
A Beit Din makes you sign a legal arbitration agreement. Their decisions are therefore recognized by law… but the Beit Din has no legal power beyond that. If they declare that you must sign a divorce, and one of the parties refuses…
Well… the options are a bit limited after that.
In Israel, the Rabbinical family courts work with the government and they have power to freeze assets and even put out a Stay of Exit for recalcitrant parties. Sometimes they can even detain Get-refusers who are not Israeli citizens, but have entered the country.
In most other countries, it is difficult to get the secular court to even hear your case for the necessity of getting involved in procuring a religious document. Jewish advocates have worked hard to create more awareness for lawyers and Judges in Family Court. Currently there are states where withholding a religious divorce is recognized by law as a form of Coercive Control. In these states, your divorce lawyer can be much more helpful. There are also ways to stipulate signing a Get as part of any divorce agreement, but enforcement is still tricky.
There are non-profit organizations that help Agunot- Jewish women or men who are chained to a dead marriage because their partner refuses to sign a Get. It is one of these organizations that reached out to me with a request to tell my story, hopefully to provide information, hope and healing to others in similar situations.
Every time I tried something and I was not successful, it took me some time to try the next option. The following took place over many years and in between, I went back and forth between pursuing divorce (and the consequences I faced for taking that route) and separating/reconciling with my Ex, until the cycle of abuse brought me to pursuing divorce again.
I married very young. I saw no flaws in my Ex. I was completely head over heels in love with him.
I grew up in a very religious household and my father made all the arrangements for the T’naim and Ketuba at my wedding. I don’t remember any of it. I only had eyes for my Ex and I had a good time partying. (This created a challenge later, as my father passed away and I didn’t have answers for the Beit Din.)
In the beginning, there was a lot of love bombing. Then that turned into a kind of passive neglect, where he was just gone a lot of the time, and made me feel like I don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. (The ‘Grand Scheme of Things’ was the production he wrote, starred in and produced in his head of how life looks like. As long as I played my part and didn’t change the lines, I was necessary to him.)
However, with time, the abuse escalated and then became physical. Over the years, most of the bones in my body have been broken or injured.
How many times did I try to initiate a divorce? I don’t even remember. Every time the abuse escalated, I would try again.
It went something like this: My Ex would hurt me in some way that I couldn’t overlook. I’d call the police (or some witness would.) My Ex would get out on bail, ignore the restraining order, and stand outside, begging me to just talk. Then he’d weep and promise to never hurt me, he loves me so much, and also just by the way, if I wouldn’t drop the charges, or if I’d pursue divorce or leave, he’s declaring bankruptcy tomorrow and we’d all be destitute. We’d lose everything; the house, cars, income and we’d have to live on the street. (Well, I’d have to live on the street. He’d go live comfortably with family or friends. I had none, since we lived far, far away from anyone who loved me and I was totally dependent on my Ex for daily sustenance.) The kids would be taken by CPS, parceled off to foster homes, and I’d never see them again.
I knew he could do it. He was not honest in his business practices (or anything else for that matter.) He hid money in all kinds of ways so the paperwork would reflect whatever he chose to say about his financial situation.
He set everything in his life up in ways that would support his future lies, in case he ever needed to tell them. He was brilliant: A calculating and cool, cool, ice cold mind.
I backed off every time.
Things would improve, but then start degrading. I’d get my nerve up and secretly call and make appointments at the Beit Din in my city, and then I’d chicken out and I wouldn’t show up. I imagined the Rabbi rolling his eyes when he picked up my call to schedule an appointment.
Most of the time I survived day by day. There were better moments. Motherhood took up a lot of my head space and I could compartmentalize pretty well.
When I think back and wonder why I didn’t try harder, I remember that I also had no money to file for divorce. I had no support. I had no options.
I vacillated between needing to get away from my Ex, and the consequences for doing so. Some days I couldn’t imagine living under his cloud another minute. Some days, between my daily chores and the kids, were okay, even had some joy in them, and then it seemed easier to stay.
My Ex’s crooked business practices imploded at some point, and his business went under in a very dramatic way. We had to move to a remote corner of the USA for a while, and there was no Beit Din anywhere nearby.
Fast forward some years. My Ex rebuilt his business and was making a lot of money scamming his customers, which I was not aware of. (He would never answer any questions about his work or tolerate any ‘interference in his business.’) I was also very distracted by the crumbling state of my marriage- I suspected infidelity, and my mind was consumed by that a little. (A little? More like a lot. So consumed by the suspicions, and the feeling that despite all his protests to the contrary, he was sleeping around, that I didn’t notice so many financial red flags.) My Ex used my identity in his financial schemes, and when the law caught up to him, he fled the country and left me behind.
That wouldn’t have been the end of the world. He wouldn’t have been able to come back in to the country because there was an arrest warrant out for him. I wouldn’t have had my Get, but I would’ve been free.
Unfortunately, I was also incriminated in the whole business and was in big trouble with the law.
That was a hard time.
I managed, and I also found perspective. I had time to see my life, and muse on it. I remembered life in my parent’s house and the peace and joy of daily life with a functional family. I remembered the warmth of my parent’s Shabbat table.
My religious observance was another thing that had gotten slowly eroded over the years by living in my Ex’s orbit.
I turned to Hashem. I vowed to keep Shabbat properly every week.
That was a turning point for me. My own conviction was stronger, and I felt like I had more courage and a new infusion of energy. Things started going my way after that. I managed to sort out the trouble with the Law.
Then came the next challenge.
I was completely financially dependent on my Ex, and since he left, I was destitute. I lost the apartment and my children and I had to move in with relatives.
My Ex kept contacting me, trying to reconcile and get me to come to live in Israel, where he was. He apologized. He wept. He promised to do better.
He reminded me that I have no other financial means of supporting myself and made dire predictions of how I’d end up without his help.
He reminded me that I was still his wife, that I had duties and responsibilities that I was neglecting by staying separated. I had made a commitment to him and to God, he said.
He said he has standby tickets for the kids and I to join him, the minute I said yes. “It will be good this time,” he said. “Just come. I love you. We’ll work it out. Don’t be a complete moron , a dumb blonde, stupid housewife. Don’t reject this offer; it may be time-limited. Don’t worry, you’ll love it here.”
It was a barrage of manipulation.
I didn’t want to go, but ultimately, after failing to find income, or alternative arrangements, I was left without much of a choice.
Israel was a great place to file for a Get. The Beit Din is able to enforce its ruling- they can freeze assets, place recalcitrant parties in jail, and take out a Stay of Exit, so you can’t leave the country until you abide by the ruling of Beit Din.
I used a wonderful organization called Yad L’Isha. They provide lawyers pro bono to women in difficult situations like mine. We filed for a Get with the Beit Din in our city.
It took a while for my lawyer to get the Dayanim to see the reality of the situation, even in Israel, where they seem to be quicker to identify all kinds of personality disorders. My Ex was so charming and persuasive and lied straight to their faces. They sent us to try Shalom Bayit three times before my lawyer put a stop to that game.
After that, the case seemed to progress smoothly—at least, that’s what I thought. I was in a bit of a haze, adjusting to a new culture, country, and new variations of the usual neglect and abuse. My Ex kept acting like he was shocked that I hadn’t left yet every time he came home and found me there, but then when I’d run away to some relative or other, he’d act like his whole world fell apart and he would die without me there. He also got physical and had me thrown out of the house by the police in front of my kids.
My older kids had trouble adapting to the new realities of life in Israel and the toxic home environment and they left home. They also found religion during this time and things improved for them too. They found friends, then jobs, then apartments, and eventually spouses.
I was struggling to keep my head above water while my Ex kept stirring up tsunamis to upend anything stable I created in my life, so I wasn’t closely following the Get case in the Beit Din. I trusted my lawyer to be on top of things, and she was. She was amazing…. But even she could not anticipate my Ex’s moves. He was a master player.
I did notice that my Ex would call the Dayan directly, bypassing official channels.
If I had any concerns or questions and used the same number, I was met with coldness:
“Excuse me, how did you get this number? This is my personal line. Please contact me through the proper channels.”
In the beginning, I approached the Beit Din secretary and I explained that I was not at home with my Ex. In fact, I had left the country. He was very nice and agreed to accommodate me by accepting paperwork by fax or phone, and in other ways.
If I had any questions about the process or if I needed help with the paperwork, I would call him. I was able to reach him easily and he was very helpful. He spoke with my family as well, if they had questions or concerns.
At some point I noticed that he got harder to reach and was always too busy to talk. Something changed. I found out later that my Ex was using his influence to shift the dynamics of my relationship with the Beit Din staff.
He also stalled the process. Any time the Daya Neem asked us for paperwork, like our Ketuba or the names of the witnesses from our wedding, my Ex would give vague answers and create delays. He would not produce the paperwork.
He went and asked our witnesses not to speak to me about our wedding, not to help me divorce him. They ended up coming forward and helping me, but only years later.
He asked the person in charge of wedding records in the country we were married in not to give me any paperwork.
He knew something.
He knew something in the paperwork would give the Beit Din some information that may expedite the process and he made sure to block all my exits.
In 2017, the Beit Din ruled that my Ex has a Chiyuv Get, meaning he was obligated by Jewish law to grant me a divorce. This allowed the Beit Din to enforce sanctions if he didn’t grant me a Get.
My Ex, of course, refused to comply.
“You’ll only be free of me when I’m dead,” he said.
He also refused to pay mezonot (spousal support) leaving me destitute, again. So much for all the promises that got me on the plane to Israel in the first place.
My Ex spent his days opening a new crooked business and laughing at the Dayanim with his new mafioso business friends behind their backs, and at anyone else who tried to intervene.
“I will never give you that Get,” he taunted, “and you’ll never see a cent from me.”
The Beit Din sent us a letter ruling in my favor, instructing my Ex to appear and sign the Get. In Israel, a Chiyuv Get ruling comes with sanctions: freezing assets, imposing an Ikuv (Stay of Exit), and even imprisonment for noncompliance.
My Ex requested a meeting with the Dayanim to discuss his Ikuv. He claimed he needed to leave Israel for a two week business trip and offered to leave bail with the Beit Din, promising to sign the Get upon his return.
“Can you temporarily lift the Ikuv?” he asked.
“Do you have a sponsor to vouch for your return?” the Dayanim inquired.
“Sure,” my Ex replied.
All his friends were petty criminals and unsavory characters. None of them had an issue with lying to the Beit Din.
I objected, arguing that he would escape and leave me without a Get. I cited his escape from the USA. He was a flight risk. He’s evaded the law before, I told them.
Despite my protests, the Dayanim agreed to lift the Ikuv- but raised the bail amount to half a million shekels.
My Ex refused to pay that amount, so the Ikuv remained, and he was ordered to sign the Get within a set deadline.
Meanwhile, I filed for an Ikuv for my younger children to ensure they stayed in Israel with me. I knew my Ex would retaliate in some way, and the most painful thing he could do to me was separate me from the children.
Keeping them in Israel with me would also secure child support.
The Beit Din secretary warned my Ex I’d filed the paperwork, giving him time to act before the paperwork was finalized.
Soon after I walked out of the Beit Din, my children called me:
“Mom, why did you sign an Ikuv for us?”
“How did you know?” I asked. “I just finished doing that!”
“We’re on our way to the airport right now,” they replied. “Dad said we’re leaving before the paperwork goes through.”
Years later, I asked my Ex about that secretary. “Oh, he was my friend,” my Ex said. He explained that he found a guy who was friends with the Beit Din secretary. He charmed that guy, who introduced him to his other friend, the secretary. He found a link to get in his good graces.
Once they “became friends”, the secretary would regularly call my Ex with updates on the case. That’s how he had insider information the moment I filed for the kids’ Stay of Exit.
Was it illegal for the secretary to disclose that information to my Ex? Probably. It was definitely morally questionable.
In my experience, that’s how things are in Israel. The rules only apply as far as your friends and family. People will bend the rules when it comes to their familial or social clan.
My Ex sent my younger kids to visit with their older siblings, and two weeks after that, he left me a voicemail:
“I’ve left Israel. I couldn’t take the persecution and harassment you put me through with this divorce business. Why couldn’t you handle this civilly, like a decent woman? I had to leave.”
Even with the Ikuv in place, he managed to get past the Israeli authorities. (He had no hesitation, no fear of using any means possible to get his way, and let technicality, legality and morality be damned.)
I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe he’d slipped through the hands of Justice again. He’s like a cat with nine lives. All the fighting, all the energy and time and the hope, the emotional investments I made in the Jewish Get process- and he just walked away from it all.
I was left with nothing—no Get, no spousal support, no child support, no money. When my Ex failed to meet the Beit Din’s deadline for signing the Get, I officially became an Agunah, a chained woman.
With my Ex gone, neither the Beit Din nor Yad L’Isha could help me further. The Dayan advised me to file with the Machleket Agunot (Agunah Department) in Jerusalem. I worked there with Rav Maimon to open a case, but without my Ex present, they couldn’t either compel him to give me a Get.
After a year and a half of back-and-forth, Rav Maimon admitted there was nothing more they could do.
My lawyer then encouraged me to contact Esther Macner. I had contacted her once before, and even got her all the paperwork she asked for at the time, and then since we moved to Israel, I had been working exclusively with my lawyer from Yad L’Isha.
At the time, she contacted a Rabbi she knew that was living nearby and encouraged us to meet. He gave me some advice, and then tried to speak to my Ex (contacted through my children), but nothing came of it.
Now that all my other avenues were explored, I called her back and updated her; we ran through options but we already tried and failed them all. She then encouraged me to pursue an annulment through the International Beit Din. However, the Rabbis there wouldn’t open a case unless I closed the case in the Israeli Beit Din. I was confused and hesitant. Both cases in Israel were stalled - but what if my Ex returned, and I had already closed the case? Would I have to start from scratch? Would they still detain him at the airport the minute he got off the plane and put him in jail until he signed? If I closed the case, the answer was No.
I felt trapped. I didn’t want to lose the case I had worked so hard to build, but I also didn’t want to reject the annulment option; it might be the only course of action available to me with this man.
I thought, That’s it. I will never be free of this man.
What if he came back? What if he never came back? What if? What if? What if?
Neither option seemed ideal to me at that moment, so who else could I turn to? Who else could help?
Again, I turned to Hashem and asked him to help me make the right decisions.
I spent an entire year trying to build some sort of life, while evading my Ex’s efforts to communicate. He even used my kids to beg me to reconcile and come to the country he had run to this time.
I managed to avoid interacting with him, but then my mother suffered an injury that required some home care and I left Israel to live with her for a while.
My Ex found out and began stalking me in my mother’s neighborhood. I avoided leaving the house altogether, so he then knocked on the door.
My mother, Bless Her, confronted him at the door. He was dressed formally and carrying roses, but she insisted that I will not see him or speak to him.
“So I will speak to you,” my Ex said. He told her that he wishes to reconcile. He wants me back, and he is willing to sign a conditional Get at the local Beit Din. We will write up a contract of behaviors that are deal breakers in the marriage, and if he crosses one of those lines, I will receive my Get immediately at the local Beit Din.
This pattern was familiar to me, and it triggered my usual confusion: Does he want me, or does he not want me? Does he love me, or hate me? Does he need me- and if so, for what? To be his punching bag?? It was a very sick game, and I wasn’t going to keep playing it.
My mother saw things differently. “Go,” she said. “Go meet him at the Beit Din. This is your chance to finally receive your Get.”
I reached my lawyer from Yad L’Isha on the way to the Beit Din, and she called them and spoke to them to clarify some details. When I got there, I saw my Ex and the Dayan in friendly discussion, my Ex turned and waved at me, all smiles and contrition. I sat down and took a return call from the Yad L’Isha lawyer.
“It’s all bullshit,” she said.
I was shocked at her language, as she was a religious woman and I had never heard her use profanity before. “Get out of there,” she advised me.
So I left.
My Ex had a document prepared with all the things he would commit to doing if we resumed our relationship, and all the things he promised to avoid, but there was no Get. “If he breaks the contract, he’ll come and sign it,” the Dayan told my lawyer.
“So he won’t be signing a conditional Get and leaving it with you today??” she asked.
“Oh, no, nothing like that. This is all about conciliation. He seems very sincere. I doubt they’ll need that Get, anyway,” said the Dayan.
I’d love to say that I never interacted with my Ex again, but that was many years ago, and our children married and had their own children, and in order for me to be there for them, I had to first create a working relationship with my Ex. I knew that if I didn’t, he would find ways to prevent me from having relationships with the children. I was glad to sacrifice my freedom and happiness for theirs. I built a relationship with my monster, and I was able to be present for many of my children’s milestones.
Over the years, Esther Macner made a point to keep in touch: Was I OK? Was I living with my Ex or separated? Was I ready to pursue the Get? She also helped me find an immigration lawyer to help me deal with other legal issues that I needed help with, even though they were not directly Get-related.
When I was really ready to sever all contact with my Ex, when I really, really understood myself, and my needs, and my own patterns, and stopped waiting for him to change, or improve, or behave himself, and I learned more about codependency; When I stopped being afraid and walking on eggshells and learned to set boundaries (even mental ones) that protected me…I was ready to try for a Get again.
I didn’t even try to turn to another Beit Din. None of the Beit Dins really made me feel very secure; and I already knew that my Ex is like a supernatural villain. He circumvented every attempt to get him to do his duty and sign that Get. He also made his position very clear: I’d be free of him only when he died.
I called Esther Macner and this time, when she referred me to the International Beit Din, I opened a case with them for an annulment.
I didn’t have any expectations. I didn’t really think anyone could help me.
Baruch Hashem!! God helped me.
If my story can teach you one thing, let it be this: Believe that there is light after the long tunnel of darkness. It’s not a cliche. When you least expect it, miracles will happen.
In order for the International Beit Din to consider my case, they first needed a paper stating that I had no open cases in Israel, that they are not searching for my Ex anymore.
I provided that.
Then, they wanted my marriage certificate, information and photos from my wedding. They also needed information about the relationship and the abuse I suffered.
There are two primary ways to annul a Jewish marriage:
One is invalidating the marriage ceremony. If the marriage was never valid… well, that eliminates the need for a divorce. This method is recognized among Halachic authorities, though not universally accepted.
According to all halachic authorities, a valid Jewish marriage (kiddushin) requires two qualified witnesses. If the witnesses are invalid—due to being related to the bride, groom, or each other, or being a mechalel Shabbat b’farhesia (public Sabbath desecrator)—the marriage itself is considered void. This means the marriage is treated as though it never occurred, regardless of how long the couple lived together. (This is the simple explanation. In truth it is much more complicated to invalidate witnesses to a marriage in a way the nullifies the marriage; but I am content to leave the legal complexity to the Rabbinical minds dealing with the issue. If they tell me it nullifies my marriage, I am happy to not delve into the mechanics and technicalities of that.)
The International Beit Din (IBD) thoroughly investigated my wedding details to determine that there were valid witnesses. For example, they asked to review photographs or videos of the ceremony, interview attendees, and verify the identities and qualifications of the witnesses to determine their validity under Halachic law.
The second method for annulling a Jewish marriage is Kiddushei Ta’ut, (“a marriage made in error.”) This is based on significant fraud or misrepresentation of the parties that signed the marriage contract. It assumes that even though the contract was signed, it was signed under fraudulent circumstances because had the reality been apparent, the parties represented would not have agreed to the terms of the contract.
Annulments based on Kiddushei Ta’ut are more complex and less universally recognized, as some halachic authorities view the concept of annulment through fraud as insufficiently grounded in traditional Jewish law. There aren’t many Beit Dins that would rely on this method of annulment. The International Beit Din is rare in their willingness to use it.
Many halachic authorities reject this method entirely, requiring a woman with such an annulment to obtain a traditional Get before remarrying.
Kiddushei Ta’ut applies when one party was seriously deceived about a significant matter at the time of marriage. (This does not include minor falsehoods or trivial misrepresentations, only serious ones.) Jewish law refers to such grave misrepresentations as a Mum Gadol—a fatal flaw significant enough to invalidate consent.
Defining and proving a Mum Gadol is part of the challenge.
Is the state of your mental health a fatal flaw? That is one layer of proof for determining a Mum Gadol. How severe would the issue need to be?
It is very difficult to recognize and diagnose personality disorders. Often the person with the disorder has no awareness of it… Proving intentional misrepresentation adds another layer of complexity. Was the contract fraudulent or were they accurately representing themselves to the best of their knowledge? It’s so unclear whether the person was even aware of their condition or whether those around them had any awareness and actively concealed the truth.
To make things more complicated, marriage is a tacit acceptance of a spouse’s flaws, and remaining with a spouse once you become aware of the Mum Gadol may also be a form of tacit acceptance, which would render the flaw not a fatal one. The International Beit Din studied this issue extensively and they hold certain views on the subject; they determined that in my case the fatal flaw was an escalating flaw, so there are no problems regarding tacit acceptance.
I will not attempt to bring down the entire Halachic dissertation here. I just wanted to give you a brief overview; and also to point out that the International Beit Din do not lightly approach the annulment of Jewish marriage. They have thoroughly studied and debated the issues, but they have come to a workable conclusion that enables them to help women who are held captive by recalcitrant husbands. They are willing to take steps and rely on Halachic opinions that other Rabbis may hesitate or refuse to apply.
The repercussions of getting this wrong are so severe.
In my situation, the International Beit Din found that my Ex had multiple ‘Mum Gadol’s: a juvenile criminal record, time in military prison, drug and sex addictions, cheating, and his various crimes. These facts were intentionally concealed, leaving me confident in my case's validity. Then… There was also narcissism, maybe untreated ADD, and extensive abuse. It seemed like I had a solid case for annulment via Mum Gadol whichever way you looked at it.
I was apprehensive about the process—how long it would take, how thorough the questioning would be, and how triggering it might become. I heard that today, the intake is conducted by a female with therapeutic experience, and then she relays information to the Rabbis as needed, so that you can be much more comfortable. In my time, that wasn’t the case yet.
The Dayanim interviewed me extensively, appearing grave as they listened. I attended the appointment alone as Esther Macner was subpoenaed in another case of hers on the same day. I couldn’t tell whether their seriousness reflected sympathy for my situation or uncertainty about my case's eligibility. This uncertainty lingered even after their initial deliberation. They were all very kind and gentle, but I still hesitated to approach them with concerns and questions just to alleviate my emotional discomfort. I felt that I had to find another source of comfort for the emotional distress during the process. They were all strangers, and being men and being Rabbis made them seem very remote to me.
Esther Macner was very helpful in this respect. She was a person I could turn to with my questions, concerns, even random fears that arose in the middle of the night.
At first, as the case progressed, I felt relieved at the prospect of freedom.
However, I later received a call from a woman connected to a support group. She suggested my annulment might not be enough without a Get. She alerted me to the fact that the International Beit Din’s annulments may not be universally acceptable in the Jewish world; Esther Macner had mentioned that to me, but I hadn’t absorbed it the same way as I did when this random woman commented on the annulment in her very shocked voice.
This raised new fears: Could my Ex contest the annulment and claim we were still married? Would my efforts be in vain?
We hit a snag: The IBD required my marriage contract, since I didn’t know who the witnesses were (my father had arranged everything and he was not living anymore), nor could I provide documentation. The officiant who had a copy of the contract refused to provide it, having been bribed by my Ex. (Despite my best efforts, he continues to withhold it to this day.)
Feeling powerless, I turned to prayer, entrusting the outcome to G-d. I poured out my heart, asking for strength and clarity as I navigated this uncertainty. My prayers became a lifeline, a way to find solace in the chaos. I asked for guidance, for help to obtain the necessary information, for the wisdom for everybody involved to arrive at the right decision, and for the courage to accept whatever outcome was meant to be. Only He could guide the resolution of this tangled process, and I placed my faith in His judgment.
Then, a miracle happened.
My brother-in-law joined my mother and I in Morocco on our trip to the Hilula of Rabbi Amram Ben Diwan, and he asked me, “Do you really want to divorce?”
He’d witnessed so many ups and downs in my relationship with my Ex.
I replied, “This time, yes. It’s enough.”
He looked at me and said, “I’m not taking your word for it. Don’t just tell me—I want to hear you declare it at the grave of the Tzaddik, Rabbi Amram Ben Diwan, at his Hilula.”
Rabbi Amram Ben Diwan is a famous Rabbi who lived and died in Morocco. He was an esteemed 18th-century rabbi, and his tomb has become the site of an annual Hilula (pilgrimage). Every year, his Hilula draws large crowds, many of them coming from as far as Israel to pray. That year’s Hilula was especially significant, and the crowds were enormous.
He turned to me and said, “Say it now, in front of the Tzaddik.”
I said, “I want a divorce. Please. I’m begging. Whatever you can do, whatever you know, if there’s any way you can help me with this…”
He looked at me, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure how he would respond. He had never wanted to help me with divorce matters before, due to his friendship with my Ex.
Then he said, “If you ask the Tzaddik for whatever you want, it will happen.”
I took a deep breath and said, “Okay,” and asked the Tzaddik for a divorce.
Then my brother-in-law said, “I was your witness at your wedding.”
Oh my gosh! Goosebumps spread all over my body. He had kept this revelation hidden all this time.
“Really?” I whispered.
It felt like a miracle. God had helped me through the Tzaddik, and through my brother-in-law. I didn’t need to figure out how to get the document released to the International Beit Din. I had my brother-in-law instead.
I went back to the International Beit Din, and the Dayan there called my brother-in-law. He spoke directly to him, confirming that he was the witness, and that he was not a kosher witness. They went through all the details, and it took a while.
Eventually, the International Beit Din informed me that they had determined my marriage ceremony to be invalid. I had never been married.
The words they told me were: “Your marriage never existed in the first place.”
They sent me a p’tur document confirming that my marriage was void and that I was free to remarry, even to a Kohein. And just like that, it was done. After all those years, it was finally over.
My father was a rabbi. He’s gone now, and I can’t ask him, but I like to think he knew that the ceremony, and the witness, wasn’t kosher. I think he set it up that way intentionally, to save me one day, recognizing that my Ex wasn’t fit to be a kosher husband—even when I was completely oblivious to his flaws. (There is a method to having an intentionally invalid wedding. Some Rabbis in Israel use it when dealing with a couple that will clearly not observe the laws of family purity or remain monogamous, but still need to have a religious wedding ceremony.)
My father saved me.
Actually, God saved me, and my father was the messenger.
God places people in our lives to help us when we need it the most.
I told a cousin of mine that my marriage had been voided. He’d never heard of such a thing as getting a Jewish annulment before, (he thought it was just a Catholic thing) so he went to ask Rabbi Meir Abuchatzeira in Ashdod, who used to be the Av Beit Din in Israel.
The Rav confirmed that he knew this law. He also said that in cases of voided marriages, you must go to the mikvah (Jewish purification ritual) and get rid of the wedding ring. You can choose how to do that—you can even sell it and enjoy the money—but you can’t keep it on your person.
I feel like as long as you have the ring, there’s still a part of you connected to your Ex.
I’m a completely free woman now, as though my marriage never existed.
I’m so grateful to God for giving me my freedom. I feel incredible.
I feel like a seventeen-year-old again, as if I’ve gone back in time and was never married.
I wasn’t tainted by my Ex.
I’m brand new.
I feel like I’ve detached from him, and now I have peace. I’m free of worry. I don’t ever want to go back to that place—the stress, the constant worry, the emotional and financial toll of any contact with my Ex.
I don’t ever want to be in touch with the Beit Din again either. It was all-consuming, waiting and hoping, feeling nervous, always depending on others for my next step.
I don’t want to be in that place anymore.
Now, I’m content to spend my time and energy on things that bring me joy.
I’m living my life now—every second, every minute.
I’m a free woman.
God is with me. I feel God in everything I touch, in everything I do.
I’d like to put in another word about Esther Macner.
She definitely helped me through my long process from A to Z.
She was really there for me, and she reassured me a lot. She said, “Let’s follow these steps, and I will help you. With God’s help, don’t worry. You need to believe in God’s kindness, and pray.”
I did pray. I turned to prayer: Prayer after prayer after prayer… and I started to see MIRACLES.
I really hope my story can help other people.
The bottom line is, it is all about Emunah.
Only Emunah.
Faith in Hashem.
Only Hashem.
As I am relaying this, I am crying because I have seen the hands of God helping me.
I felt like there was nobody on this earth that could rescue me, and then… I feel like I developed this relationship.
Me and Hashem.
I talk to Hashem every day.
Every single day.
I speak to him with prayers, in cries and in whispers, and Thank God, I see the results. I see that Hashem is with me.
Only Hashem is with me.
Even in the bad times, in the midst of the worst sorrow, he was with me. He is with me everywhere.
Everywhere.
You just need to hang tight to Hashem and Hashem will perform miracles for you.
It’s like a mystery.
Thank God, Thank God, Thank God.
Update: January, 2026
I have received my Get.
When you want something, you want it NOW… and I really, really wanted to be free of my Ex.
It obviously wasn’t the time for the Get. G-d works on His own timeline, but I guess I wasn’t so patient to wait for G-d’s plan to unfold.
I wanted peace. I wanted my joy back; and that’s what the IBD annulment provided for me.
I kept asking Rabbis every time I met one about the annulment, because I was not fully comfortable with it. I kept hearing different things. I didn’t feel like I would be able to really remarry with just the annulment, because many people had comments about that.
Also it didn’t feel fair, since my Ex was unaware of the annulment.
But it made me calm.
It removed the whole mess of feelings of sadness, being mad, stressed and depressed. I think it was G-d’s way to soothe me so I can let go and accept that things will happen when it’s the right time.
We had a family event that I had to attend, even knowing that he would be there.
He’s with another woman; has been with her for a while. He’s introduced her to our children at this point, so she is with him for the longer-term. He’s been very public with their relationship at this point. (I have my thoughts about this woman and this relationship. To start with, he is nearing sixty and she is twenty-seven years old. But it’s not my business.)
He found time to pull me aside and ask if I’d consider reconciliation.
Even after everything.
His offer came with strings: Every once in a while, you’ll go visit your mother…
(In other words, travel somewhere, go away for a few days, give him some time to party before he’s ready to play the husband again for a while.)
I said No.
I didn’t waver. The annulment gave me strength. I didn’t feel like I was his woman any more, at all, in any way.
“IF you are really not coming back…?” he said, lingering, watching my face for a tell, a hesitation. “I guess I could give you a Get…?”
I didn’t even really hear it. I automatically dismissed it as more bribing, dangling a carrot to get me to do what he’d want, I didn’t imagine he was serious for even a moment.
“I’m not coming back,” I said.
“Well, I’m not leaving (his current country of residence),” he said.
“OK. So don’t,” I said. “It’s fine.
A short while later, a Rabbi called to inform me that he has my Get in his possession and will hand it to me personally when he is in my area.
I have it now.
My Ex said I’d only be free when he was dead. When the sky fell. When pigs flew.
But G-d is the arbiter of people’s hearts.
Things shift and change.
Don’t give up. Trust G-d.
Anything can happen.
Esther Macner is the founder of Get Jewish Divorce Justice
Which is a non profit organization based in Los Angeles.
Dedicated to the prevention of abuse in the Jewish divorce process, using legal and Halakhic strategies to help navigate get refusal in both the Base Din and the court systems.
If you, or anyone you know, is struggling to receive your Get, call Esther Macner at 310-730-5282 or email her at [email protected]. Strictly confidential.
