When my grandmother graduated High School in the late 1940s, the American dream for women was to get married and raise children. Wartime propaganda told individuals to reject the communist behavior of their Russian counterparts and contribute to society by creating nuclear families. While women were expected to fill roles once occupied by men who went to war, these were seen as temporary positions, not long-term careers. Women often worked as secretaries or store clerks, jobs that paid little and offered few opportunities for advancement. “You just kind of lived life and it happened. You didn’t make big plans,” Alice says. Alice did, despite those expectations, make big plans. In her high school yearbook, she wrote about her aspirations to become a journalist.

In a society where we’re constantly told what we should love and what we should hate about ourselves, we can forget that our bodies belong to us. There is little space for women to create their own narratives, express their own fears, and admire their own features. Artist Miriam Ross gives women the opportunity to do exactly this in her project, The Body Journey.

Ilana has always been a giver; it’s how she was raised and it makes her feel whole. She’s a preschool teacher, a babysitter, a loving daughter, the truest friend I know. Her personal goals have always revolved around caring for others. She doesn’t do this out of obligation, but because human service work and caring for her loved ones fulfills her.

Clutching a tray of two teacups, Elizabeth leads me upstairs to the study. We sit next to a tall bookshelf and she reaches towards the far right, where thick volumes are bound in hues of navy, emerald, and charcoal, with titles like The Great Alone and Time and Tide.

The Selfish Series is a monthly column that puts us first. I will interview smart, strong, passionate Jewish women about “selfish” decisions they have made. These will be stories about creative pursuits, love, career ambition, education, and any other areas in which we have fought for our passions. It’s time for me and other Jewish women to recognize that we must simply make more room for ourselves.