Upon arriving in 1996, a profound sense of belonging washed over me. The inexplicable peace and tranquility that enveloped me when my feet touched the ground was unlike anything I had ever experienced. I longed to recapture that same feeling this time, although I am fully aware that circumstances have changed since the events of October 7th.
My flight was uneventful. I struck up a conversation with an American expat who relocated to Israel a decade ago. Surprisingly, he had prior interactions with his company through his work at a venture capital firm. Although he found their product impressive, he hesitated to invest in them. I took the opportunity to update him on the team and their current success in Israel and the US. M was a warm and friendly individual, underscoring the small world of Israel. Upon landing, I felt a sense of familiarity but noticed the airport had evolved since 1996. Stepping outside, I sensed a different atmosphere. As I navigated through customs, I paused to reflect on the pictures of hostages lining the corridor, paying my respects to each one. Among them was Omer Neutra, an Israeli American from Long Island who was captured during his IDF service. I knelt down to leave a note, assuring him of my unwavering support in his absence and promising to advocate for his return home.
Photo Credit: Janna Tusa, Ben Gurion Airport 12.04.24
When I stepped out of the airport and breathed in the familiar air, a sense of home immediately washed over me. It’s a feeling that’s hard to explain to those who haven’t visited Israel. Despite differing opinions back home about my journey and pursuits, with some calling me “crazy” for going to what they perceive as a war zone, Tel Aviv actually feels like one of the safest places to be. Even with threats from Iran on my first day, I felt more secure in Israel than I have ever felt navigating the streets of New York City.
The weeks leading up to my departure were hectic, filled with long workdays, weekends packed with activities for my children, and preparations for my projects in Israel. The bombing of the Embassy on April 1st did not deter my plans or disrupt the daily life in Israel. I strongly believe that there are hidden truths in the universe guiding me to be here, living my passion and purpose. For over 14 years, I had set aside my true self, conforming to fit into others’ expectations and becoming a mere shell of a woman in the process, striving to be a “good” wife despite feeling unappreciated and unable to meet unrealistic standards.
After a profound journey of self-discovery and healing from illness, I realized that true happiness is the key to being the best version of myself and the best mother for my children. When the attacks on October 7th occurred, I knew deep in my heart that I had to resurface the 16-year-old girl within me who embarked on her first trip to Israel 5,700 miles away. Even in my mid-40s, I still feel that there are undiscovered parts of myself waiting to be explored. My aunt, a blend of a mother and an older sister figure, told me, “Whatever path you decide to take, be you. This is who you are.” She is among the select few who appreciates and comprehends the profound connection I have to Israel.
My time in Israel was transformative, leading me down a path of continuous learning, advocacy, and a deeply meaningful connection that had been dormant for nearly two decades – it was time to revive it. When faced with the toughest challenge of your life, you realize that the moment to act is now or never. The unexpected war left no room for preparation; it was time to take action.
When conversing with individuals in Israel, they often notice something unique about me. The question, “Why do you love Israel so much?” is frequently posed to me. My response to both Israelis and Americans remains constant: “There is a special human connection here that I struggle to find elsewhere in the world, despite having traveled extensively.” As a New Yorker, I have observed a profound desensitization within us. We have adopted a perspective tainted with hatred, bigotry, and demoralization. Upon tuning in to the news on my first day, I witnessed the media distorting the reality of Israel, turning it into a spectacle. Now, as I sit on the picturesque beach in Tel Aviv, witnessing families bonding, children playing, and young girls offering me seashells to take home to my whimsical friend Gina, who collects them, my heart is filled with warmth. I reflect on the people I cherish here and how the dehumanization of Israel and its people deeply affects me, as I cannot envision a world devoid of the profound love and human connections I experience here. Since my arrival, every moment – from that first sip of coffee (did I mention the amazing coffee in Israel?), the homemade meals prepared with love, the well-organized procedures in case of sirens, the constant reassurance of safety and encouragement not to fear, the serene park strolls, my newfound canine love, witnessing the sunset, observing family dynamics, to the culmination of my first Friday – has been infused with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude for being in such a remarkable place. It comes as no surprise that Israel is deemed the most sacred place on earth. Regardless of one’s religious beliefs, spirituality manifests in various forms. It imparts a serenity and wisdom unlike any other, amidst prevailing fears, stress, and acts of terrorism. Despite these challenges, every individual carries a smile, embracing life, mindful that each day could be their last.
