Chizuk needed please- the sad ramblings of a patrilineal Jew almost at the finish line to Orthodox conversion

Writing in for some chizuk, please ❤️

After 4 very long and emotionally agonizing years, I’m approaching what should be my final meeting with the Beis Din for Orthodox conversion, BZH. For context, I grew up Jewish. My father is Jewish, and my mother had a Conservative conversion well before I was born. Although I didn’t grow up religious, I always had a strong belief in Hashem and integral sense of Jewish pride. When I was exposed to Torah observant Judaism in my teenage years, I fell in love with it immediately. Of course, as I began to dig deeper, I became plagued by the question of whether I was considered Jewish by Halacha. I have known for a long time that I want to live an observant life, but it took me some time to confront reality and pursue conversion to make it official. To say it’s been difficult is an understatement- logistical challenges aside, the experience has been emotionally excruciating unlike anything else I’ve faced. It was like my identity was stripped from me, and I was suddenly barred entry from a family I had felt a part of my whole life and grown to love dearly.

BH, after a lot of hard personal work, a ton of learning, many logistical life changes, and committing and recommitting to the journey, I’ve reached a place in my observance where I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. However, I’m finding it a huge challenge to be excited about post-conversion life when I feel a lot of resentment toward the religious community, fueled by a build-up of hurtful comments and actions over the years. Where I went to university, I was one of only a handful of frum students, and yet I was consistently discouraged from growing in observance. Sometimes I was even flat-out refused support in tasks such as kashering my kitchen, obtaining mezuzot, etc. by the local shluchim under the premise that my mitzvot don’t yet count, and I wasn’t worth wasting the resources on. More recently, I’ve been working with a tutor who has been incredibly helpful in helping me brush up on the finer details of Halacha. Understandably, he is also critical of intermarriage, but it’s a struggle not to let some of his comments have a negative impact on how I see myself. When asked during a class if all Jews would have a share in the World to Come, this rabbi replied that he doubted most secular Jews would make the cut because so many are intermarried and likely “wouldn’t be willing to do teshuva by renouncing their non-Jewish spouses and kids.” Regardless of the fact that this view does not reflect my own, I left the class in tears over the idea that bringing me into the world was a horrible mistake/sin that my father (who I have an amazing relationship with, thank G-d) should be atoning for.

Thus far, I’ve spent my entire life feeling out of place- Jewish enough for the Nazis of the world, too Jewish to fit into the secular world, but not Jewish enough to be fully accepted by the frum world. At the end of the day, I think I’m as much at peace with my situation as I can be. I know I’m not entitled to anybody’s help, and I’m so grateful for the people who have guided and supported me along this journey. While nothing can ever deter me from my goal of completing my conversion and living as a Torah observant Jew, these experiences still linger in the back of my mind and make me a little fearful about fully integrating into the religious world as a Halachic Jew. Part of me mourns the fact that I’ve spent the better part of my young adult life making sacrifices to prove my love for a religion that hasn’t always seemed to love me back, and I want to be able to let go of that sadness. A dip in the Mikveh can remedy the spiritual conflict between my soul and my body, and I know it will be worth it to strengthen my relationship with Hashem and solidify my connection to the Jewish people once and for all. Still, I wish there was a way to get my brain and emotions on the same page. If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading, and I’d appreciate any words of wisdom you have for me. If nothing else, please let my ramblings serve as a reminder that we need to be kind, not judge one another, and have empathy toward each other’s invisible struggles. ❤️

Side note- I actually tried posting this first anonymously in a Facebook group for religious Jews. I seek support from religious Jews, because that is the group that would best understand what I’m going through. Turns out my post didn’t meet community guidelines because I haven’t finished the conversion process yet and shouldn’t have been in the group in the first place. I think this perfectly encapsulates my struggle 🙃