Twenty years ago today in the suburbs of Albany, NY, wearing a white frilly dress purchased from the store where one must purchase such things in Brooklyn, NY, I sang in public for the last time. As it was quite literally on the occasion of an honest-to-god rite of passage, nobody fell sick as a result.

Per tradition in the Northeast USA, my parents threw me a huge party at a hotel on the occasion of my Bat Mitzvah, with catered chicken fingers for all the kids. I had a perm and was infatuated with a boy in my Hebrew-school class. I led the conga line. There is video evidence.

At this point in my life I have very consciously and actively eschewed everything about the events of that day, but I’m going to focus on the positives. Of spending a day with my whole extended family, of obsessing over that boy.

I had a long post written about religion and judgment and expectation and friends and family, but sometimes cutting 600 words is the best thing to do.

Searching our dusty albums basement archives hasn’t turned up a photo of me on that day, so instead why don’t you post a photo of or comment about yourself from twenty years ago? A day of reminiscence is in order!

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