February 18, 2026|א' אדר ה' אלפים תשפ"ו When Vulnerability Goes Too Far By Rabbi Efrem Goldberg

We live in an age of exposure. Today people post every thought, feeling, and experience. People are interviewed publicly about the details of their love and marriage, about their parenting, their courtship, their private struggles, and the most intimate details of their lives. Nothing is sacred. Nothing is holy. Nothing is Holy of Holies. There is nothing left that belongs to just them.

Every thought is shared. Every emotion is posted. Every experience is documented, recorded, uploaded, and broadcast. Dating, marriage, parenting, hardship, triumph,  all of it becomes content and for those competing in a world in which content is king, nothing is more tempting than oversharing.

Of course, there is value in vulnerability. Other people can learn from our experiences. Sharing can be mechazek, it can strengthen others. It can reduce stigma. It can create connection. I understand that.

Our parsha, Terumah, introduces us to the layout and floor plan of the Mishkan, the holy Tabernacle. The outer courtyard hosted the altar where sacrifices were offered. The Kodesh, or the holy section, housed the menorah and the shulchan. The last section was the Kodesh HaKodashim, the Holy of Holies that housed the Aron and was only entered by the Kohen Gadol on Yom Kippur. Our sacred ark which held our sacred luchos and the original Torah scroll was in the most private and inaccessible part of the Mishkan.

Rabbi Soloveitchik suggested that we model our personal lives after the structure and layout of the Mishkan:

From the time I was young, I learned to restrain my feelings and not to demonstrate what was happening in my emotional world. My father would say that the holier and more intimate the feeling, the more it should be concealed. There is a hidden curtain that separates between one’s interior and the exterior: “and the dividing curtain shall separate for you between the Holy and the Holy of Holies.” What location is more sanctified than the inner sanctum of one’s emotional life?

The Holy of Holies was separated by a paroches, a curtain. Not everything was meant for public view. Not everything was meant to be entered freely. If we live in a world where there is no emotional Holy of Holies, where everything is secular, profane, and publicly shared, then what is left of our lives? What remains intimate? What remains our sacred space?

If every conversation you have with God is also one you are willing to have into a microphone and camera, is there any true intimacy between you and Hashem? If every conversation you have with your spouse is one you would comfortably share publicly, is there emotional intimacy between the two of you? If every feeling and thought you would once have shared only with your closest friend is now something you post online, then what remains behind the curtain? Without a curtain, there is no Holy of Holies. And without a Holy of Holies, there is no intimacy.

This concern is not only spiritual. It is psychological and relational. Research increasingly shows that while moderate vulnerability builds connection, habitual oversharing can erode emotional intimacy. Studies suggest that more than sixty percent of adults report difficulty with emotional intimacy in close relationships, often citing fear of vulnerability and blurred personal boundaries as contributing factors. Surveys from the American Psychological Association indicate that heavy social media users are significantly more likely to report feelings of loneliness and superficial connection despite frequent sharing. A recent report from the Pew Research Center found that nearly half of adults say social media makes it harder to maintain meaningful boundaries in relationships. Relationship therapists consistently observe that couples who regularly process private marital conflict publicly, whether online or broadly within social circles, experience lower long-term trust and diminished emotional safety.

Why does this happen? Because intimacy requires containment. True emotional intimacy is not merely disclosure. It is selective disclosure within a protected space. When everything is shared, nothing feels chosen. Nothing feels exclusive. Nothing feels sacred. Oversharing can create what psychologists describe as pseudo intimacy, the illusion of closeness without the depth that comes from protected vulnerability. When every emotion is externalized to an audience, it is no longer held carefully within a relationship. And intimacy thrives on what is held.

We are in danger of becoming a generation without a paroches. A generation where nothing is reserved, where no conversation is too sacred to record, where no struggle is too private to publish. But holiness depends on separation. The Torah’s entire system of kedusha is built on havdala, on distinction, between kodesh and chol, between public and private, between outer courtyard and inner sanctuary. If there is no emotional curtain, there is no emotional sanctuary. If there is no sanctuary, there is no sacred space for marriage. If there is no sacred space for marriage, there is no deep trust. If there is no sacred space with God, then tefillah risks becoming performance rather than encounter.

Let me be clear. This is not a criticism of any individual. There is real value in appropriate sharing. There are times when speaking openly helps others. There are times when sharing pain reduces isolation. There are times when telling our story gives someone else strength. But the question is not whether to share. The question is what we hold back, what we preserve, what we protect.

Every relationship needs something that belongs only to it. A marriage needs conversations that exist nowhere else. A soul needs prayers that are never recorded. A family needs memories that are never posted. We must restore the paroches. We must recreate that section of our lives that is not for public consumption. We must consciously designate an emotional Holy of Holies. Because intimacy requires exclusivity. Holiness requires boundaries. And connection, whether with a spouse or with Hashem, requires something that is just between us.

If everything is shared, nothing is sacred. Let us bring back the curtain.