While I considered this essay, my mind kept going in different directions.
I wanted to be heartfelt without sounding cliche. After typing, erasing, re-typing and re-erasing, it hit me: I’ve already written my essay.
I opened my journal and read through entries made over the past three years. While reading, I went from laughing hysterically to bewilderment.
I had forgotten how little I knew about Judaism or how ignorant I was to antisemitic conceptions and remarks. I also noticed trauma responses left by religious organizations present themselves as ignorance, obscenities and absolutes.
Diary provided outlet for pandemic stress
I began journaling in early 2020 as an outlet for a pandemic that made my life very difficult.
Not only did my job as a nurse take on a whole new identity, I found myself quarantined with a moody tween and eager pre-Jew battling cancer (for the third time).
At that instant, if I had told myself I’d be using an almost three-year-old journal to validate why I should be accepted as Jewish, I would’ve had myself committed.
Within this essay, I am going to insert entries from my journal, highlighted in italics. This will, I hope, illustrate why I am using my journal as a source of inspiration.
Justin began his study with the Kabbalah
In late 2019, my husband, Justin, began studying sacred geometry and gematria. I found the topic interesting and would often engage in conversations with him.
Over the months that followed, I watched as his path began to align more with Judaism. Once I realized this was more than just a passing interest, I gave him the suggestion to convert.
Over the months that followed, I watched as his path began to align more with Judaism.
While Justin embraced the idea, he also respected our agreement to never try and convert me. He knew this was his journey and his alone — even though I knew he wished I would join him.
Still, I was caught off guard by how much his participation in Judaism affected me by default.
Me to my best friend: Justin is converting to Judaism and is now eating funky bread and speaking jibberish. Ugh, the dog is pacing and driving me crazy. Her response: I almost thought this was a joke until you mentioned the dog.
Change brought tension to the household
Justin became more active in Judaism and tensions grew as I felt pressured to rearrange my life in a way I wasn’t wanting.
Sweet Jesus, make it stop! There’s Jew stuff everywhere! He is buying books, watching podcasts, attending Shabbat service EVERY FRIDAY and Torah study EVERY Saturday! He even bought a thing for his head! At least it’ll cover up his thinning hair.
In wanting to allow Justin his freedom to embrace Judaism, I unknowingly was giving myself permission to embrace it as well.
I was hoping that getting my emotions out on paper would make it easier to keep my composure and show my husband the respect he deserved. But I still had moments of weakness.
However, no matter how frustrated I became, I never let anyone else make a negative (or even remotely negative) comment about Justin pursuing his new life.
Me to my son: Justin is full-on Jew. My son: Yeah, the Jewish thing seemed really random. Me: I saw it coming for a while. He’s actually found a whole new level of peace. I’m very happy with it.
I was desperately trying to process the stirring of emotions I was experiencing — particularly about God.
In wanting to allow Justin his freedom to embrace Judaism, I unknowingly was giving myself permission to embrace it as well.
But I was still at the point where my religious trauma was holding me back. I was desperately trying to process the stirring of emotions I was experiencing — particularly about God.
Oh God, there’s tiny “Shabbat” candles in my home. Wait, I can’t write “God” anymore. I have to put “G-d” instead. Wait … what just happened. Is this how it starts?
The family eased into Hanukkah
I came to realize that I was expressing myself through my husband, using him as the frontman in his (our) Jewish experience.
The husband wanted to decorate for Hanukkah. This is our first attempt. I couldn’t let go of a Christmas tree; so I got me a Hanukkah bush. Doing so made me more comfortable and allowed me to remain in my safe space a while longer.
This went on for quite some time while I was trying to heal the wounds left by religion. Yet, every now and then I would test the waters to see how things felt.
I allowed myself to be vulnerable and began re-evaluating how I felt about joining Justin on his journey.
I guess it’s okay to smack each other with green onions, for some Jews, on Passover? Who knew? If you look back on social media far enough, there’s a picture of me as a ninja attacking Ansel in front of everyone on Zoom.
As more time passed, I began to explore the world outside my safe space. I allowed myself to be vulnerable and began re-evaluating how I felt about joining Justin on his journey.
The first class hit Patricia hard
I agreed to take an Introduction to Judaism class with him through the Union for Reform Judaism. While it was educational and I thoroughly enjoyed the 20 weeks of class, I almost didn’t make it past the first class.
My first Judaism class hit me hard. Very. Hard. I cried like a neglected baby needing a diaper change and food. In a broken down, hot mess, I emailed [Student Rabbi] Caitlin [Brazner]. That poor student rabbi! What she doesn’t know is, I probably would’ve given up if not for her.
More and more, aspects of Judaism were being seamlessly introduced into our everyday routine. I asked Justin to say the morning and nightly prayers with me.
More and more, aspects of Judaism were being seamlessly introduced into our everyday routine. I asked Justin to say the morning and nightly prayers with me.
Me to Justin: Is the bedtime Shema just the Shema from Shabbat service? Justin: No, it’s a longer version. Me: Will I get the same credit if I just say the normal Shema? Justin (as he looks at me with disbelief and adoration): Do you want me to start you with the kid’s version? Me: Yes, please.
Overcoming “imposter” syndrome
What I came to realize is, the destination is more satisfying because of the journey. … it was like coming back to something I once knew.
I used to think that I was lost before finding my way to Judaism, but I was never truly lost. God knew I needed the journey as much as, if not more, than arriving at my destination.
God knew I needed the journey as much as, if not more, than arriving at my destination.
You see, at the beginning of my journey, I had profound feelings about being an “imposter.” It wasn’t until I was much further down the path that I realized, I have no imposter syndrome. I just had to find my way back home.
Even if I never officially have the privilege of calling myself Jewish, my soul is Jewish. It doesn’t need the affirmation — that’s an earthly desire (and because I’m on Earth, I do desire it!).
It just so happens that society makes people take roles and labels. So, I’m Jewish — that’s my label.
Being Jewish isn’t being religious. It’s life. I’m not religious. I’m living as everyone should. Just so happens that society makes people take roles and labels. So, I’m Jewish — that’s my label.
The battle I have been fighting for decades is over. Any negative feeling I once felt toward religion, and ultimately God, has officially transformed into a peaceful devotion.
Never in a million years did I think I would want to convert to Judaism. But I’m happy my husband was able to reach me. I love being Jewish.