Lifechanging Hadassah: My Conversion Journey

Around the time I was 23 years old, I decided that I would convert to Judaism. Now I am approaching the two-year anniversary of the mikvah (ritual bath) immersion that marked the official beginning of my life as a Jew. Growing up in a “pretend-Methodist house,” I now had an official faith to act as the guiding light in my life.

I often get questions like these a lot:
“Why did you convert to Judaism?”
“What did you find so attractive to make you want to convert?”
“What made you want to join a neurotic group of people who have historically been scapegoated during virtually every hardship the world has faced?”

I’m kidding about that last one – but only slightly.

My response at this point is well-rehearsed. It’s succinct. It gets the conversation moving along so we can go back to talking about the topics already at hand. I reply:

“I felt called to Judaism in my early adulthood because the framework provided a solid path in which to navigate life. Having Judaism as the backbone for my life helps me to live out my values fully, especially by being an active part of Hadassah, both on the chapter level and the national level through Evolve, Hadassah’s leadership development program for young women.”

Pretty good right? But perhaps it’s obvious that there’s details missing. Here is everything I am not saying:

For a couple of summers during college, I got a job as a camp counselor at the Jewish day camp in my college town. That experience immersed me in the world of Jewish values and practices. Oddly enough, living within those values made me feel like myself in a way that I never had before. It’s too bad that the summer had to melt away and I had to return to what was my “real life” – the secular life where my relationship with my college boyfriend and passing classes were my top priorities.

Still, this emptiness deep within gnawed at me. Though in general, people do not turn their backs on centuries of family tradition just because something deeply internal doesn’t feel right. Normally, in these situations, external factors end up being greatly influential.

I am ashamed to say that my external factor involved the relationship I spent most of my time focusing on in college. For four and a half years, that relationship took a chokehold on my life, which isolated me from my family and the friends I made. I had no community that my then-partner did not totally control.

I was vigilant of what I wore to class, not only because I wanted to look my best but also to hide bruises. Speaking was a minefield. Each attempt to occupy space in my own life was highly scrutinized. Time and time again I’d be reminded by my loving partner that my view of reality was wildly inaccurate and that I needed to depend on him to tell me what was real.

Life continued this way after graduation. Status quo was upheld in the months after we’d perused jewelry stores to look at rings. The experience was suffocating. I couldn’t live the rest of my life that way. So I chose not to.

The decision felt radical. Though maybe not accurate, I was afraid there was a risk that if I came clean to my family about the relationship, my parents  would convince me to see it through. Because I had made a promise. In our house, we didn’t go back on promises. There was no safety. Except at the Jewish Community Center (JCC) where I’d previously worked.

I ran back to the JCC in my college town and found a job working the front desk. A gracious family member that lived nearby took me in. And the more I leaned into Judaism, the more my life came together.

Given my vulnerable state, I found it hard trusting the voice in my head. So the wisdom within the Torah became my guide. As I read the Torah portions week to week, I found that I deeply related to the Israelites’ experience when they left Egypt.

The Israelites sat on the banks of the “River Jordan,” looking out at the promised land, knowing how sweet life could be living in the land of milk and honey. But they were unable to touch it.

I understand that pain. I sometimes feel as though I can look out at the horizon and imagine myself living in eternal sunshine with a spotless mind. But I know I’ll never be able to as I continue to struggle with Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) to this day.

I suspect that fear of uncertainty during the Israelites’ time in the desert drove them to melt down their jewelry and create the golden calf to worship.

How did I cope with my uncertainty and fears? I had no choice but to rely on coping mechanisms I learned through years of therapy to treat my PTSD. What’s been done cannot be undone. That goes for my own actions as well. I place a great deal of value in holding myself accountable.

On a cheerier note, just as the Israelites who followed Moses out of Egypt did not die as slaves of Pharaoh, I will never be legally bound to the person who abused me in every way imaginable.

I live my life freely now. I am dedicated to this Jewish life I’ve built. My wonderful current boyfriend and I are building a Jewish home –the kind that always has the latest issue of Hadassah Magazine out on the coffee table. I journey through my work weeks in eager anticipation of lighting my Shabbat candles once the sun goes down on Fridays.

I play an important role in my community through Hadassah. I get to serve a grander purpose as I help raise money locally that allows the Hadassah Medical Center in Jerusalem to perform miracles. My new community of friends involves incredible women from across the country that I could have only met through Evolve: the Next Generation.

Redemption from Egypt transformed the Israelite slaves into G-d’s chosen people. My conversion to Judaism redeemed me from being a victim of domestic violence to become a survivor who is on her way to thriving.

The author does not speak on behalf of Hadassah and the views expressed herein are the author’s own and not necessarily those of Hadassah.

Emily is a member of the Hadassah Writers’ Circle, a dynamic and diverse writing group for leaders and members to express their thoughts and feelings about all the things Hadassah does to make the world a better place. It’s where they celebrate their personal Hadassah journeys and share their Jewish values, family traditions and interpretations of Jewish texts. Hadassah members are proud of their Zionist mission and their role as keepers of the flame of Jewish values, traditions and beliefs as well as advocating for women’s empowerment and health equity for all. Since 2019, the Hadassah Writers’ Circle has published nearly 900 columns in The Times of Israel Blogs and other Jewish media outlets. Interested in writing? Please contact hwc@hadassah.org.