I’m 20 years old, a Jewish sophomore at Sarah Lawrence College, sitting in my Jewish theology seminar “Jewish Mystics, Rabble Rousers and Heretics.” I love classes like these, where I examine Jewish theology from a new perspective. The professor, who I adore, brings out a reading titled “The Coming of Lilith” by Judith Plaskow. At that moment, I am introduced to the feminist interpretation of Lilith and all her glory. At that moment, my life shifts for the better.
The story of Lilith and her creation, her mere existence, is complicated. There are many perspectives on who this powerful woman is, and what her existence in our religion indicates. In the text we focused on in my seminar, this is what we learned: Lilith dates back to before the world was created. She was Adam’s first wife, before Eve, and her identity was mistaken as the devil for generations. Lilith was the first woman to suffer from vilification. The first woman to suffer from man-made patriarchy. The first woman to suffer the wrath of man’s anger. Lilith and Adam were originally created as equals, but Adam didn’t like that. Lilith had opinions, and strength, and when Adam fought her she left the Garden of Eden and Adam begged God for a wife who would obey him. As I sat in my seminar, listening in awe about Lilith, I embraced her distinction as a female demoness in Jewish folklore.
My introduction to Lilith was a pivotal moment, almost cosmic in its timing. At that point, I was not fully confident in myself, still unsure of my abilities and the power of my voice. On a more superficial level, I was timid with my appearance, had yet to try out bold makeup or daring skirt lengths. But Lilith changed all that. As I moved through my day to day, I started thinking to myself: “What would Lilith do?” And I started acting accordingly, with the same self-assurance and power she holds.
In discovering Lilith, I rediscovered my voice. I used to be shy, afraid to speak my mind in my Jewish theology classes, even though the subject is one I’m deeply passionate and educated about. But I’m no longer afraid of the space I occupy within the academic world; I write my papers proudly and invite open dialogue and criticism to every thesis I write — not because I second guess myself, but because I’m confident in my thoughts. It’s what Lilith would want.
Her story catalyzed my growth, transforming me into a more confident, empowered Jewish woman. We only studied Lilith for a couple of weeks in my seminar, but I requested more articles and books about the icon from my professor and I went on to write a 20-page play about her, filled with monologues from her perspective addressing the patriarchy and taking men to task. It’s what Lilith would want.
When I experience misogyny, be it a catcall from a strange man in Union Square to a disrespectful diatribe from a man I reject on Hinge, I am now more grounded in my power — because of Lilith. No woman should have to deal with these violations, but I know when I was younger, they would have left me frozen, terrified, fearful. It’s not that they’re easier now, but that I have Lilith on my side. I can picture myself using pepper spray on a street harasser; I’ve blocked audacious men on Hinge and the other apps they insist on finding me through. Protecting my physical safety and my peace is the most important thing, and I am capable of doing so. It’s what Lilith would want.
Sometimes, self-preservation is the most important thing a woman can do, through gritted teeth so that we’re able to fight another day. The patriarchy isn’t just the actions of a few individual men — it’s a structure in place that attempts to knock us down and keep us down. But we endure. We each find our own way to fight against the patriarchy, and the way I do it is through channeling Lilith and using my new question as my guide: “What would Lilith do?” The question keeps me awake at night. It is a source of comfort and of strength. I now feel more confident than ever. I’m not the same girl I was that day in seminar when I first met Lilith. She changed my life.
We should all channel our inner Lilith when things get rocky and our hearts heavy. When you feel small, timid, or afraid of doing something others deem radical, I implore you to ask yourself: “What would Lilith do?” She might change your life, too.