B”H
With Purim approaching, we turn our minds toward the story of miraculous Jewish redemption thanks to the efforts of Queen Esther. Many of us are familiar with the tale, which sees a nice Jewish girl swept up into the evil King Achashverosh’s chaotic search for a new bride against her will. Sequestered away from the rest of the world, she and the other eligible beauties—for that was the king’s prevailing criterion—were bathed in essential oils, dressed in the finest clothing, draped with the most expensive jewels, for months in anticipation of their meeting with the monarch. Esther famously refused the jewelry and opted for a plain, simple dress when her moment arrived.
Supposedly struck by her natural beauty and grace, King Achashverosh chose Esther to be his queen. This meant that she received her own royal chambers and maidservants, and was blessed with the “good fortune” of awaiting a summons by His Majesty to fulfill his carnal desires. But buried beneath the horror that now constituted her day-to-day life, her uncle, Mordechai—the wise leader of the Jewish community—assured her there was a distinct reason she now found herself in the palace. When the wicked and cunning royal advisor, Haman, duped Achashverosh into helping him enact the annihilation of the Jewish people, Esther knew that she alone was poised to intervene. Risking her life to visit the king when she had not been summoned, she pleaded the case of her people. Receiving Esther and turning on Haman, King Achashverosh showed mercy, and the Jewish people are alive and well today.
So there you have it, right? Queen Esther, Jewish heroine extraordinaire. Case closed. Or is it? It’s true that the Purim story ends there, but does Esther’s? The Midrash teaches us that her remarkable bravery was indeed the climax of her royal journey. What followed, however, was a life beneath a crown she never wanted. Ripped away from her family and all other members of the Jewish community, Esther lived out the rest of her days married to King Achashverosh. She even had a son with him, whom she did her best to covertly educate about Jewish traditions. She may have saved the Jewish way of life, but she never got to live it freely again.
I’ve heard the Purim story linked to domestic abuse in various ways. Some believe the name Esther comes from the Hebrew word, “hester” or hidden, and abuse in the home is hidden from public view. Certainly isolating Esther from her family and communal support system in order to execute control over her constitutes abuse. We also see how Queen Vashti, Esther’s predecessor, was executed for refusing to parade nude in front of Achashverosh’s party guests.
But this time around, something new struck me as relevant. Regardless of the specific experience, life after domestic abuse is not an easy path. For those who may choose to leave, it takes an incredible amount of courage, tenacity, and support. And that’s not the end of the story. Abuse does not always end when the relationship does. This is particularly true for survivors who share children with those partners and will continue to communicate in order to coparent. For some, like Esther, prioritizing their safety and the safety of others who may be in the home, they may choose to stay. They sit day after day in a palace they didn’t help build, under a crown they didn’t want.
SHALVA’s support services have no timeline. Clients can access our free counseling and legal aid during or after an abusive relationship. They can come to us if they plan to leave or if they plan to stay. Understanding the intensely complex web that someone enduring domestic violence must navigate is difficult, but recognizing that leaving is not simple, nor is rebuilding after escape, can be important validation for them to hear. Survivors deserve to be the heroines and heroes of their own stories, but Queen Esther’s legacy reminds us that not all great stories end with happily ever after.
Author: Mandy Hakimi, Orthodox Outreach Manager. Originally from the Pacific Northwest, she now calls Chicago home.
