One Year After October 7, Here’s How Relationships in the Jewish Community Have Changed

Some connections with friends and family have ruptured beyond repair, while others are stronger than ever.

Talking about Israel/Palestine with friends and family has often been a source of discomfort. But ever since October 7, it’s one that people cannot seem to move beyond in their relationships. It used to feel easier, at least if you weren’t living in Israel/Palestine, to set aside differences of opinion on the Israeli/Palestinian conflict for the sake of maintaining connections with loved ones. But after October 7, the raw emotions and urgency of the moment have made it feel nearly impossible to find common ground with those you love that happen to identify as pro-Israel, pro-Palestine, Zionist, anti-Zionist or anything in between that does not make sense to your world view; rifts between friends and family abound.

Perhaps this sounds familiar to you.

Over the past year, many in the Hey Alma community have reached out to us, asking for advice on how to heal ruptures. As such, we were inspired to host a panel discussion about repairing relationships in the wake of October 7 and everything that has come after; over 600 people signed up, searching to find a Jewish community big enough for everyone. But over the last few weeks, in anticipation of the first anniversary of this awful day, we turned to you with questions of our own. We at Hey Alma wanted to know how the lives of our audience members have shifted over the last year. One of these questions was: How is your relationship with family/friends now? What we received was a wide spectrum of responses from stories of heartbreaking friend and family break-ups to tales of becoming even closer to loved ones than before.

In sharing these responses, we hope to show you that you are not alone in trying to reconcile ruptures between friends and family over Israel/Palestine. And if you ever find yourself in need of a new kind of Jewish community, family and friendship, looking for one on Hey Alma isn’t a bad place to start.

How is your relationship with family/friends different now?

“It has ruptured a relationship that was very important to me. Someone I love and had supported a lot through being traumatized completely switched on me when our politics grew further apart. I’ve been shouted at and had all sorts of talking points thrown at me and put in my mouth — a total breakdown in communication and ability to see another point of view. It’s incredibly sad and despite it all, I continue to love this person and try to hold in mind that he is acting from a place of trauma that it is not my job or ability to fix. I see this as a microcosm of how all communities have been affected across political and religious spectrums.” 31, London/Limerick

“I have always been close with liberal, progressive people with whom I’ve shared most of my worldviews. Since October 7, the loudest views of my circle have been condemning Israel’s response and absolutely silent on anything else. It has often felt very unsafe to be Jewish publicly because I fear being lumped in with what they view as genocidal oppressors. The situation is tragic on all sides and is based on millennia of nuanced history, all of which has been ignored among the people I used to consider close friends.” — 32, San Jose, CA

“I feel like some of my friends have shown their true colors and not in a good way. I’ve decided that their antisemitic toxicity is not something I want in my life.” — Washington, D.C.

“I had a friend of 20 years completely ghost me because I asked them not to post antisemitic things (Stars of David covered in blood, antisemitic caricatures of Jews with big noses, holding money, etc.) in the guise of critiquing Israel. I even gave them resources for how to criticize the Israeli government without being antisemitic — thousands of Israelis do it. But no, they said they would only listen to anti-Zionist Jews, even though I never brought up Zionism or my own views of the war at all, just the antisemitic nature of some of their posts and how they could better critique what was happening.” — 25, U.S.

“Each day of the past year, I have felt my world getting smaller. The amount of former friends I have continues to grow. The amount of humans who truly believe every piece of propaganda they read continues to grow. Two of my six bridesmaids are no longer my friends. My cousin lost her entire friend group because they truly believe she should advocate for the deaths of her own grandparents in Israel. My world has gotten smaller, yes, but it has also gotten remarkably more Jewish and for that I am not sorry. I am finished trying to explain myself to people committed to misunderstanding me.” — 33, Toronto

“I converted to Judaism in 2018. I was getting ready to marry my now wife, who is Jewish, and being involved with her and her family drew me to Judaism. I was also the only significant other among my in-laws who was not raised Jewish, as well as the only same-sex significant other, so I felt very out of place. Converting helped me to feel like I was a full member of the family. But I have been critical of Israel’s treatment of Palestinians since I was a child. In the wake of October 7, I was horrified by the violent rhetoric and dehumanization I saw coming from Jews around me (including calling Jews not supporting Israel’s policies “Hamasniks,” telling people speaking up to “shut the fuck up” and even referring to Jewish people expressing beliefs like mine as kapos), especially because one of the defining factors of my conversion was my belief that Judaism promotes the exact opposite. I made a concerted effort to educate myself, re-reading books I read during my conversion process, ordering new books, watching documentaries and expanding the news sources I followed. I also started speaking up in small ways, usually posting content to my Instagram story. Because of my speaking up I now feel very unwelcome among my in-laws. One of my sisters-in-law unfollowed me, forced my account to unfollow hers and stopped speaking to me. Her husband told me on the phone that I just don’t get it like they do, implying that because I converted I am less entitled to my beliefs, because if I had been raised Jewish I would agree with him. I now feel more ostracized and unwelcome than I ever have.” — 31, Little Rock

“I have felt so incredibly alone despite living in a Jewish enclave. Friends who a year ago I would consider family stopped talking to me post-October 7 because they assumed my views on Israel. They blocked me from seeing their stories on socials, but others would send me screenshots of what they would post. Instead of talking to their friend during an incredibly hard time (losing friends at Nova, having family in Israel) they instead chose to block and not reach out to me or any of our other mutual Jewish friends. I’m left hurt and mourning friendships.” — 28, Boston

“I’m the only Jew in my friend group and I feel so unheard. When I try to tell them something is incorrect or antisemitic they don’t listen to me. I’m trying to make new Jewish friends but I’m still mourning the community I thought I had.” — 32, New York

“I have cousins who won’t talk to me anymore. After October 7, I made a massive career change. I went from being a classroom teacher to working for the ADL. I have several cousins who no longer speak to me because of this.” — 30, D.C.

“I have grown significantly closer to all my Jewish friends. I’m able to talk to them about all that’s happening without having to first get into an argument about Israel’s right to exist. They understand my feelings about on campus antisemitism in a way that my gentile friends don’t. I was already very involved in Jewish life on campus and I started going to even more events post-October 7. Sometimes it’s really nice to just be with someone who understands the complicated mix of grief and frustration and fear I’m feeling without me having to say anything. After the six hostages were killed, I was able to text my Jewish friends and grieve while my non-Jewish friends were just going about their days as normal. It’s like there is a gap in between our realities and I’m too exhausted to bridge it.” — 20, New York

“I’m just so tired of feeling hurt by my non-Jewish friends’ and classmates’ casual antisemitism disguised as pro-Palestine activism. I’ve had to unfollow some friends on Instagram because I just couldn’t deal with the constant Instagram stories that justified October 7 or argued against Israel’s right to exist. I just feel so jaded and alienated from communities that are supposed to support me. As a queer Jew, I don’t feel at home in the campus GSA because I know many of the members participated in the protests that chanted “from the river to the sea” on the main quad. I’m just so tired of having to assume the worst of the new friends I make on study abroad and even more tired of being proven right.” — 20, New York

“I am the youngest of four. I was incredibly close with my millennial brothers growing up. As I told my family about the antisemitism I have witnessed on my college campus, my brothers dismissed my fears as being “white fragility” and called me a liar. I never thought I would reach a point when my brothers would believe strangers over their own sister.” — 20, Prague

“October 7 has altered every relationship I have in one way or another. Some of those relationships have gotten stronger in a meaningful way. The vast majority have been negatively impacted. A lot of the negatively impacted relationships are due to their actions or inactions, while others are due to my reaction to their silence. I am still trying to work through how to reconcile this.” — 55, Rhode Island

“I’ve lost friends for not being ‘sufficiently’ sympathetic to one side or the other. I feel like I can’t talk about it with some of my family members because Israel just isn’t as important to me as it is to them, and the way they speak about Palestinians ranges from indifferent to horrific. I don’t know what to do about the High Holidays this year because I don’t want to be lectured to about this subject. I feel like I’m not comfortable in many Jewish spaces anymore. And above all, I am grieving everyone killed and held captive.” — 37, D.C.

“I come from a Soviet Jewish background. USSR was notorious for its antisemitism, and my grandparents from both sides knew it firsthand. My paternal grandmother has always made a point of asking if someone is Jewish (or not), which has always annoyed me. Why does she ask whether this or that friend of mine is Jewish? Why does it even matter, there are so many things that my friends and I have in common, and these things transcend ethnicity. Fast forward to October of 2023. I value all my friends, but there are some deeply painful things that only my Jewish friends can understand. My gentile friends are supportive and tactful, but there is so much context that they don’t know or are unable to grasp. Hence there is now added value to all Jewish relationships in my life. Grandma, I wish I didn’t understand it, but now I do.” — 38, Riga, Latvia

“There’s a certain apathy and disconnect I feel from my non-Jewish friends. Friends from high school are posting crazy things online, I’m showing up to university classes to an old friend that called me a privileged white bitch. I’ve got friends who try to rationalize what is happening and how I should feel. When I feel this overwhelming discomfort or grief, there isn’t the expected level of sympathy or love. I’ve had to go out and make new Jewish girlfriends this year, and I couldn’t be more grateful for them — they get it.” — 23, Sydney, Australia

“I found out that one of my oldest and best friends was sending messages about me, speculating on my position on Israel. I feel like a huge part of my identity needs to be hidden, even from fellow Jews. Consequently, I feel incredibly lonely as I can’t seem to find anyone around me who is willing to countenance the breadth and fullness of grief that I feel about this situation. I stay silent because I cannot afford to lose more friends.” — 33, U.K.

“My non-Jewish family members constantly send me poorly-researched articles condemning Israel. I am seriously critical of the Israeli government myself, but I need to believe that there is hope for the Jewish homeland, and I have many friends and loved ones in Israel. When non-Jews send me this sort of thing it feels at best like a test or at worst, an attack. The fact that it is coming from family members is especially isolating. I feel like I have to choose between my family of origin and the community I have chosen and worked so hard to become a part of.” — 36, London

“It has brought me closer to some Jewish friends as we have increased our pro-Palestinian activism and talked through our alienation from so many Jewish spaces that are excusing or supporting genocide. We have had to rely on each other for Shabbat and holiday celebrations instead of the wider Jewish community, which has the silver lining of making our friendship more solid and giving it a new dimension. In some of my friendships and relationships with family members, we avoided talking about Israel much prior to October 7; now, that is no longer an option, and I feel more secure in those relationships knowing we will not avoid an important yet fraught subject and are bringing our whole selves to our relationship. I have felt relief and closeness when those I am close to are aligned with me on the importance of seeing everyone’s humanity, Palestinians included.” — 33, San Francisco

“I go to university at a school where antisemitic rhetoric has been very prevalent since October 7, despite 13% of my school being Jewish. Because of this, my gratitude for my Jewish community has grown exponentially! Growing up in an area that is fairly Jewish, I never fully understood how important it was to make an effort to find other Jews. My friends and family from home have reached out to make sure I was physically and emotionally doing OK during such a difficult time, which I cannot express my gratitude enough for. My friends at school and I were and still are a support system for each other because it was more important now more than ever. We talk through the things we’ve experienced in class or the hate we have seen around campus. I think Jews around the diaspora have found a way to support each other by spreading love and warmth. So many of my non-Jewish friends haven’t checked up on me and in most cases it’s not because they don’t care about me, it’s because they simply do not understand. This is the exact reason I have become so close with my Jewish friends, because it’s just easier to be around them; they understand the heaviness in my chest that this year has caused.” — 19, Chicago

“Some of my closest relationships with my non-Jewish friends feel so fraught, which has been extremely painful. People who I have known for years and who know I support the Palestinian people’s right to live peacefully in their ancestral land cannot understand why I feel the same way about Israelis. Sometimes I feel very alone or like I have to prove I’m a “good Jew.” On the other hand, this last year has brought me closer to my Jewish community and friends as it seems like they’re the only people who can understand the way I feel.” — 25, Boston

“I lost a really close friend because I took up too much space talking about the antisemitism that me and my community were going through since October 7. I lost this friend who assumed a narrative about me rather than coming to me to have a conversation. Instead I was met with one text message, in which I was told our friendship was ‘untenable’ at this point. I replied saying how hurt I was and how invalidating they were being, and that I wished they would’ve taken the time to sit down to talk it out with me. We haven’t talked since.” — 29, Los Angeles

“I lost a close friend of nearly 15 years. They never checked in. Never asked if I was OK. Never asked about Israeli friends and family despite being active on social media and seeing my cries for support. After a few months I finally broke down and told them how hurt I was, trying to give them the benefit of the doubt. But I was met with gaslighting and blame for expecting them to be aware of what was happening. We have not spoken since. It’s the first friend breakup I’ve ever had and it was heartbreaking.” — 35, San Diego

“There’s been a reckoning. My social circle is significantly smaller now than it was a year ago, but the quality is so much higher. My Iranian-born counselor really helped me through the process of accepting that some people may simply not fit into my life anymore, and that’s OK. I don’t need to fight to keep friendships that bring me anguish.” — 35, Vancouver, Canada

“My big fat Jewish wedding is in November and two of my friends have completely ghosted me. The first was one of my bridesmaids, who stopped answering all forms of communication shortly after October 7 because she’s a vocal, non-Jewish anti-Zionist and couldn’t handle being friends with a Jew anymore. The second friend is Jewish and has become more frum as a response to October 7. He decided that my fiancé and our Jewish friends and family attending the wedding aren’t observant enough (we’re liberal Jews). I never thought I’d be in a position to lose friends because I’m simultaneously too Jewish and not Jewish enough.” — 31, London

“I had a mentor who I was incredibly close with; after October 7 that relationship completely shifted. I don’t think we could bridge the divide between how we viewed the conflict and war.” — 30, New York

“Post-October 7, I majorly re-evaluated my friendships and acquaintanceships. I made the decision to mute many of my non-Jewish friends on social media; disengaging from their reactions to the war was important to my mental health. A decades-long friendship that was already on the rocks came to an end. It still kind of blows my mind that she never checked in on me after October 7. I stopped putting energy into making myself and my beliefs more palatable to the anti-Zionists in my life. I started focusing more on my friendships with other Jews — getting to kvetch with them has been a huge source of relief.” — 30, Minneapolis

“My best friend isn’t Jewish and I constantly wait for her to mess up or not be on my side. Like I’m constantly testing her. And she never fails me. Every time she proves she’s the ally I always thought she was. Thoughtful, kind and nuanced. It sucks to feel that constant edge but also amazing to really and truly see who your real friends are.” — 35, San Diego

“It’s complicated. I am a Jew who believes in a free Palestine. It’s been heartening to watch some (very much not all) Jewish family and friends begin to see how Israel has directly harmed Palestinians over generations and move away from uncritical support of the Israeli government’s actions. But on the other hand, I’ve watched ‘progressive’ friends nosedive into antisemitic conspiracy theories and share misinformation easily challenged by a simple Google search. In the early days, I was fact checking posts for my friends; eventually, I gave up and mostly pulled myself off of social media as I felt more and more like the only person who did one ounce of confirmatory work before sharing the latest viral quote about Israel on a brat-summer-green Canva background. I can’t find a place for myself as a person who believes that Palestine should be free, that Jews and Israelis are multidimensional, flawed and capable of growth — like any other group of humans — but who also cares deeply about the truth of what I’m sharing and is unwilling to endorse lies about, or slaughter and displacement of, any person or group of people. Doesn’t seem like it should be hard! It’s hard!” — 33, Philadelphia

Click here for more from the Hey Alma community on how this last year has changed us.

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