I am no longer who I was before October 7th, 2023.

I am still a fervent advocate for social justice, For equality and democracy.

Before October 7th, I felt part of a movement bigger than myself; one that sought to make this world a better place for next generations; one that recognized the injustices of the past and sought to find ways to prevent them. 

Those pieces of me are somewhere deep within me, except now, they manifest differently.
I no longer have the peaceful approach within me. I no longer hide away from anger.

Anger lives within me, and I embrace it.
I am angry at the world, angry at those who I stood by and fought for.
I didn’t stand by them for transactional purposes; I did because I believe in their plight.

But they failed me. They failed us.
The loneliness that has built up within me is a direct result from a failed movement that is selective in their search for social justice; one that does not look to defend the victim, but seeks to determine themselves who the aggressor is based on their opinion rather than history. Determine based on who fits their narrative better instead of who is really paying the price of hate.

On October 7th and every day since, I have witnessed two types of people:

Jewish people and a handful of allies that have called out hate. Jewish people and a handful of allies who have held hands and mourned together. Jewish people who are slowly witnessing a part of history that the world swore would never happen again.
Then there are the people we stood by. Those who have chosen between virtue signaling or silence. At first, I understood their hesitancy, since it can’t be easy to advocate for something you don’t know much about (understood does not mean I agree with it).

It has been more than 500 days, and their silence has now become as complicit as the systems that have successfully globalized the Intifada. These same systems were put in place to protect human rights but neglect the rights of Jewish people.

I have given up on friends, not because they said something hurtful (though many have), but because their hypocrisy is a pathetic excuse as virtue signaling.

My post-October 7th is one that no longer excuses silence as a result of discomfort.

Discomfort is not a feeling we can afford.

Synagogues are being torched, buses blown up, people killed on the street in cold blood.

My people.

Innocent people are being held and tortured in darkness, returning to the outside world with their souls drained from them.

Babies, grandfathers, and mothers returning in coffins. Desecrated coffins used as propaganda vessels because the world, the western world, has normalized it.

My post-October 7th is unapologetically direct. I do not care whether my words or actions make you uncomfortable. I no longer care if my directness is interpreted as abrasive, or if you are tired of hearing about it on my social media.
My post-October 7th has become a warrior for justice and education that others don’t deem fit for advocacy. 

I will stand unapologetically by both my religion and Israel. Your choice to interpret that as me standing by the Israeli government and the wrongdoings of people in power is the excuse you have sold yourself so you can feel better about disagreeing. Your choice to generalize to fit your narrative is your burden to bear, not mine.

I am proud of my post-October 7th self. I am proud of all of us who have stood together in the face of evil to rise stronger and capable of putting political differences aside. Because this post-October 7th world is beyond election polls and political aisles.

Your Jewish friends have all changed since that day and your choice to not stand by them is not only cowardly, but a missed opportunity to stand against evil.
We will keep fighting so you don’t have to go through a fraction of what we have faced. Not because we expect the effort to be transactional but because, unlike many, we do believe in true justice.