Home Blog

Why Zionists Love The Holocaust

Without the Holocaust, Zionism would not have succeeded. It was a fringe movement, ignored by assimilated secular Jews as unnecessary, and by religious Jews as oppositional to its beliefs.

The Holocaust was critical for the formation of the state of Israel – it shifted the views of Jews around the world, it pushed world opinion to support the founding of the state, and it drove millions of Jewish refugees to the country.

Zionism was founded on the idea of Jewish self-determinism, that no longer would Jews go “like sheep to slaughter”. And yet Zionists failed the Jews of Europe – they were so concerned about creating a better future that they failed to create a better present.

“One cow in Palestine is more important than all of the Jews in Poland,” said Zionist leader Dr. Issac Greenbaum. In 1944, Zionist leaders were offered the chance to ransom tens of thousands of Hungarian Jews for 25 million dollars. They refused.

The more Jews died in Europe, the more valid the Zionist cause. Here is a direct quote from Sol Meyer, who turned down the deal to save Hungarian Jews: “if we do not have sufficient victims we shall have no right to demand an independent state.” Stated differently, the holocaust was the best thing that happened to the Zionists.

It did not stop there. Holocaust survivors were treated terribly after the war, looked down upon as victims, and their individual stories remained untold and invalidated until the Eichmann’s trial in the early 60’s.

Now, of course, things are different. Zionists will have you believe that Israel exists to ensure that the Holocaust happens “never again”. They take great pains in dragging everyone with a pulse to holocaust museums in Israel, Poland, and across North America. And anyone who questions any part of Zionism is equated with condoning the holocaust and marked with the ultimate accusation of being either an anti-Semite or a self-hating Jews.

Unsurprisingly, this obsession with the holocaust is all about image. A friend of mine developed an app that uses AI to help decedents of survivors identify their ancestors in holocaust photos. He approached multiple holocaust museums for support, but was turned down, because their goal is not to remember those who died or to help their decedents mourn. It’s to shove the holocaust into the faces of non-Jews. Holocaust museums are not for Jews. They are for everybody else.

Zionism’s ethnic Nationalism is essentially the mirror of Hitler’s racism. Jews are genetically different, says both Hitler and the Zionists. It’s just that Hitler saw them as the worst and the Zionists think they are the best. They are the most moral army in the world. They are the only democratic country in the Middle East. They are a beacon of morality, and the mounting evidence to the contrary is simply a gigantic pile of bad apples.

In reality, this concept of “never again” is highly specific. Israel has refused to recognize the Armenian genocide. It has colluded with countless countries with human rights violations to serve its own specific needs. And, of course, it is perpetuating some of the most violent acts against civilians in modern history, a brutal suppression of a similar desire for self-determination by a people who were there before they arrived and who rely on their good graces for their very survival. “Never again” indeed.

My father is currently on a book tour, a book whose entire thesis is founded on Hitler’s opinions around the Jews. These are analyzed and interpreted and turned, with a triumphant “aha!” into proof of Jewish superiority. Jews are innately spiritual, imbued with a drive to be righteous and good in their very DNA. They’re just different. They’re just better.

We’re right back where we started.

An earlier version of this post was entitled “why Zionists love Hitler”, which I changed after realizing the current title would be more accurate.

The Rabbi, The Rapist, and The Printing Press – A Tale of Mystery and Intrigue

Yeedle Kugelmacher was a pedophile.

Not those shady, creepy people who need to register as sex offenders.

He was of the Rabbi-therapist variety.

You know that whole catholic priest stereotype? Kind of like that, but you need to swap out Catholicism with a different set of arcane beliefs.

Now, before you go accusing him of being a monster, remember: people aren’t all good or all bad. In this case, there were many truly rightious acts that he did in his lifetime.

Many widows and orphans he cared for, and not just in that way. In ways they actually needed, ways that didn’t cause them irreversible trauma.

And let’s be clear, no one saw this coming.

He was an esteemed author of children’s books. Doesn’t that more than qualify him to be a child psychologist, informed in the inner workings of a the developing child’s mind and bound to a strict code of ethics?

It also provides him with a convenient book warehouse in which to do his deeds, because of course he does his own fulfillment.

The whole thing is truly a magnificent leap, because this comes from a world, and from an author who barely acknowledges that women exist. And if they do, certainly not in a way that interacts with men in any way. How did he even know how to rape?

God certainly works in mysterious ways.

And that, by the way, is one of the key takeways. It’s all our fault, and we have to pray harder. Because if we pray harder, God will throw someone else’s kid under the bus because of their sins of their parents.

You know, sometimes God really is trying to teach you a lesson so he has your child molested by a Rabbi without you knowing about it for years.

If your takeaway from that is not crystal clear, well, maybe you should have your faith examined. I know a Rabbi who can help.

About Face

Flip the tables for a moment, and imagine the Jews as Palestinians – how would you interpret their behaviors?

One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter

Imagine the Jews were living in a country. Not even Israel, which holds much Sentimental Value. Just an arbitrary land, in which they happen to be comfortable. 

Let’s say it was Poland.

Along comes a group of people, let’s call them the OyVeys, who say “no, this is our land. We were promised this land since time immortal. We once lived on this land like, 2000 years ago. We’ve been praying about coming back here ever since.” They also point out that a tiny fraction of OyVeys have been continuously living in the land throughout this entire time.

Now, the OyVeys have actually suffered a lot over the years. They have been the world’s #1 scapegoat for centuries (although they admit that the Jews never harmed them much). But they are also good with money, with talking the talk, and with wheedling themselves into positions of power and influence when possible.

And so, they establish institutions like the OyVey Colonial Trust and the OyVey Colonization Association. They convince the leading countries of the time that it’s about time they went back to their ‘historic homeland’.

This gets put up for a vote, and they are allocated 56% of the land despite constituting 33% of the population. (20 years earlier it had only been 11%)

The Jews are angry at this development and heroically revolt, fighting for their own autonomy and to not lose their homes. 

As part of that uprising, thousands of Jews are killed, including many civilians. Others are forced to flee their homes, either at gunpoint or out of fear. Sometimes those homes were bulldozed and OyVey neighborhoods built there instead. Other times, OyVeys moved into the existing houses.

The revolt, although ultimately unsuccessful, is later immortalized as the “Wroclaw uprising”, which Jews mark every year as an act of heroism and defiance.

The Jews never give up on their hope to live freely in the land they once lived in, just like all the other citizens of countries around them can.

They keep fighting a resistance battle. Many are arrested and killed. They are immortalized in a museum called “The Museum of Underground Prisoners .”

A notorious resistance leader, famous for leading many attacks against OyVey military and civilians, eventually becomes a political leader and attempts to negotiate with them. His name is Yasser Begin Menachem Arafat. These negotiations are not successful.

The OyVeys continue their crackdown. They declare any expression of separate Jewish identity a criminal offense. They ban all political gatherings of 10 or more Jews.

They keep the Jews in designated areas, give them special identity cards, and build tall walls to keep them in place.

If Jews throw rocks in protest, they shoot them in the legs. Sometimes they accidentally hit their head instead. Woops. 

Occasionally OyVeys will rampage through a Jewish town and set it on fire. Nothing is done.

The world protests.

The OyVeys remind the world that they are the only democratic country in Eastern Europe.

On average, for every OyVey killed in the conflict, 20 Jews are killed in response.

The OyVeys remind the world that they are the most ethical army in existence.

Thousands of Jews are arrested and kept in prison without charge.

The world complains.

The OyVeys remind everyone that they have been victims themselves, not once, but many times.

Deconstructing Zionism

I have been on a journey of deconstructing religion for the last 9 years, and this site is a testament to the variety of angles in which I’ve (literally) attacked the subject.

In many ways, the challenges I grapple with around religion were ones that were issues for me even when I was religious. I was able to hold out for years, but when the framework gave away, all those gaping issues stood out for me, and were available for immediately mockery.

Zionism has been more elusive. I have long known that nationalism is not something I relate to. I was definitely aware that too much patriotism just feels like a secular religion. But Zionism had a special place, because it was linked to survival.

Most Jews are pretty much fine with you being non-observant, or an atheist. Tell a Jew that you don’t believe in God, and they might very well tell you they don’t either. Tell a Jew you don’t believe in Israel, and you’re a self-hating antisemite.

Jews are more religiously attached to Israel than they are to the religion of Judaism. And although I was raised in a grey zone, with parents who purported to be anti-Zionist, like most Orthodox Jews, it was explained that this pertained only to Israel’s secular government. The importance of the land was intertwined with both religion: “this is our. homeland, a holy spot chosen by God”, and safety: “no one else will protect us, we need to protect ourselves”.

When I left religion, the spiritual significance of the land fell away, but its need as a defence against antisemitism remained. And because Israel is such a pervasive assumption for most Jews, and antisemitism is such a salient feature in my upbringing, unpacking all of it has been complex, slow, and non-linear.

A couple things come to mind:

  • Israel is indoctrinated into Jews worldwide, from a young age. Even if you don’t plan on ever living there, you still must celebrate and venerate it. It’s like a letter left in the western wall to perpetually beseech God on your behalf on autopilot, except here what is being perpetuated is some sense of identity or safety.
  • The blatant militarism of Israel is celebrated and embraced. Instead of it being strange, or sad, that 18-year-olds must go to war or stomp around carrying guns, this is normalized and celebrated. From social media posts celebrating their hotness, to having them tag along to every birthright trip, post-high-school military camp experiences for international Jews. I have a photo of my 4-year-old daughter wearing a military beret as part of her kindergarten’s independence day celebrations.
  • I was never taught history. Whatever history I was taught was entirely from a Jewish lens. What happened to the Jews and when, and was it good for the Jews or not. I had no context for the wider sense of our place in the world, what else was going on at the time that said thing was happening to the Jews, and just as importantly why? Beyond the blanket “they hate us because we are Jews” answer, it’s been fascinating to begin to understand the contexts of how Jews presented at different points in history, and how that contrasted with society around them. I certainly was not taught about the multiple massacres and attacks on civilians that Israel perpetuated or abetted throughout its history.
  • Racism played a big part in how I was raised. Arabs were inferior, barbaric, dumb, unable to organize themselves, did shoddy work (“Arab work” we called it), and just as importantly, all grouped into one category. Israeli Arabs, Palestinian Arabs, Jordanian or Egyptian, it didn’t matter. They were all the same, they were all not to be trusted. If one of them had wronged the Jews, all of them had. It was not our job to take care of the Palestinian problem, it was the other Arab countries responsibility to “take care of their own”. And, since “even the Arabs don’t like the Palestinians”, this proof of perpetual persecution was itself a justification to persecute them further. Sound familiar?
  • I never got to meet Palestinians, growing up. Israel does a pretty good job ensuring you have almost no contact with Palestinian Arabs. There can be no overlap, even though they live in the same country. They choose not to learn Hebrew, we choose not to learn Arabic, even though it’s supposedly Israel’s official language. I got to meet a Palestinian once in my entire 27 years in Israel, and I did so using my American passport. Israelis are thus largely oblivious to the types of shit Palestinians are subjected to by their own Israeli government on a daily basis.
  • If Jews have a right to self-determination, then the Palestinians should too. In fact, whereas Jews came from all over world and their only unifying factor is their race and religion, then you end up with with a country founded on religion and racism, and we should be doing better than that. Palestinians, at least, hail from the same geographical location.
  • It’s true that Israel often seems singled out on the world stage, and this obsession with it, either positive or negative feels unique and at times discriminatory. Certainly it makes it easy for actual antisemites to hop on this bandwagon of hating Israel, or more insidiously, Jews worldwide, and hide behind justified criticism. But the fact remains that Israel as a supposedly western democratic country operates with an amount of military force against its own population in ways that the Western world does not typically stomach. In a time when religion is waning and racism is on the decline, at least rhetorically, founding a country around race and religion is not a great look.

I am still trying to make sense of it all.

Understanding antisemitism beyond a simplistic “God decreed that it would be so” and “they hate us because we are so moral”.

Understanding the nuance and context around the Middle East, both historically and geographically. Jews picked one of the most complicated places in the world to colonize, at a time when colonialism was a justified and celebrated behaviour. And while other colonists can simply go back to their home country, Israel has nowhere to go. The situation really is complicated.

At the same time, Israel operates with a tremendous amount of entitlement. It continues to operate with excessive military force even though there are no existential threats to its existence, and it does little to try to alleviate the plight that it has caused. Just as more of the world is waking up to the inappropriateness of antisemitism and racism, the world is also shunning colonialism. And just as the western world has taken steps (typically not enough) to amend its past antisemitism, racism, and colonialism, it behooves Israel to do the same.

Personally, I see no correlation between criticizing Israel and antisemitism, and I don’t care how many holocaust survivors or academic scholars weigh in on this topic. Jews deserve to the same rights as any other citizen of the country they hail from. Any less rights is a fatal flaw in the country they reside in. Any special rights is unfair to the rest of the population.

A collection of Jews from Poland, Germany, and Morocco do not necessarily have a right to declare their own country. If they do declare their own country, they must grant everyone in that country with the exact same rights, and deal with the consequences of not doing so.

The assumption that Israel is a necessity for Jewish survival is just that, an assumption. Jews will continue to survive even without a country, and it remains to be seen if having a country helps them survive. But this assumption is so basic, and so ingrained, that I am still hacking away at it years after leaving religion behind.

If criticizing Israel’s colonial roots and current entitlement behaviour makes me an antisemite, then so be it.

The Right of Return

“Those delusional Palestinians,” I remember my father telling me as a child. “It’s been 60 years since they declared a war, and lost. Now, they stick to themselves in refugee camps, carry the keys to their lost homes, and keep dreaming of coming back. The should shut up, get over it, and move on. It’s over.”

In the year 132 CE the Jews living in Israel, led by Shimon Bar Kochba, led a valiant but futile revolt against the colonizing Roman forces1. They briefly managed to establish independence before the Romans returned in force, killed over half a million of them and exiled the rest. The refugees often carried the keys to their homes. This effectively ended the Jewish presence in Israel, and is referred to historically as a “disaster” for the Jews.

For the last 1,900 years, Jews haven’t shut up about it and have dreamed of coming back. Thousands of years later, they invoked their right to return to their “homeland”, even though the reason they had left in the first place was because they had declared a war against their oppressors, and lost.

Bar Kochba, who led this devastation, effectively transforming Jews from a major population in the Middle East to a “dispersed and persecuted minority“, is celebrated by Zionists as a hero, exemplifying the Jewish right to self-determination.

  1. This was the third, and best planned, of the Jewish revolts. The second had occurred about 20 years earlier and was perpetrated by Jews living outside of Israel, in the “diaspora”. As part of the rebellion, Jews killed almost half a million Roman civilians. ↩︎

The Gadol Hadorburger

Endorsed by the leading minds of the generation, the Gadol Hadorburger is bursting with gadlus in every bite. Prepare to be supershteiged by the glistening holiness that only the most oldest of Rabbis can imbue.

In This Week’s Parsha

You want inspiration from this week’s Parsha? I’ll give you inspiration from this week’s parsha.

In this weeks Torah portion, we learn about Moses, humblest of all men, who conveniently had anyone who oposed him killed. But it wasn’t him, it was God.

In this week’s Torah portion we learn about stoning gays.

About how to treat your slave right.

About how much less a woman is worth than a man, in monetary value.

We learn about God’s compassion, and his caring for the Jews like they are his own children, and all those times he smote tens of thousands of them in plagues because they crossed Him, those ungrateful bastards.

In this week’s Parsha we learn about Genocide, and when it’s allowed.

We learn about animal sacrifice, and the minutia that necessitate it.

We learn just how unclean a woman is when she is having her period. And how unclean a man is when he ejaculates.

In this week’s Torah portion we learn how many Jews there were at a specific point in time. We learned who begat whom. We learn when the Jews went where during the 40 years in the desert.

Inspiring.

In this week’s Torah portion, we learn about zealots taking laws into their own hands.

About how to deal with idolatrous wives.

About how big a fine you should pay for rape.

About polygamy, from a man’s perceptive.

You’ll learn about leprosy, Good and Evil, and how Jews are the chosen people, destined to becomes greater in number than the sand on the shore and the stars in the sky.

This hasn’t happened yet.

You can be inspired by blessings, shaken by curses, and moved by the six different women who are mentioned in passing.

It is a sweeping book, dictated by God Himself into Moses’ dutiful penmanship and painstakingly transcribed from one generation to the next, even though the font has completely changed over time.

In this week’s Parsha, you’ll learn how to live an ethical and moral life.

By doing the opposite of what the book says.

Perpetuating Trauma

I was 11 or 12 years old when my school took us to the neighborhood holocaust museum (what, yours doesn’t have one?)

The rabbis warned us that the museum curators might not have the same sensibilities that we enlightened religious people did, and therefore we might encounter some pictures of naked women in concentration camps.

And if we do, we should avert our gaze.

The exposure to gratuitous violence and death, on the other hand, was not the least bit of a concern.

Attending the Yad Vashem holocaust museum is an annual activity for many Orthodox Jews, the perfect way to spend Tisha B’av instead of sitting home and trying to be sad by yourself.

Stimulated by negativity. Titillated by trauma.

I indulged in this ritual several times during my teens, supplemented by graphic holocaust documentaries screened locally on the years I couldn’t make it.

My father was obsessed with antisemitism. I’m not sure if this was his own trauma response to visiting the camps as a teen – the holocaust had ended only 15 years before he was born. Or if it was instilled in him by Noah Weinberg, who couldn’t shut up about Hitler and how inspiringly evil he was.

My father’s bedroom office was lined with shelves of books about the holocaust. They were high up and out of reach, so of course I gained access to them. I couldn’t look away.

My father soon developed a new obsession – the threat of radical Islam. He founded a non-profit and churned out documentary after documentary about local and regional threats – Palestinian, Iranian, ISIS, college campuses.

The goal was to spread “awareness”. The solutions were for other people to find.

He exported fear, and he found a willing voice in the American right and in Jews, who can’t get enough of regurgitating tales of antisemitism on the high seas.

To watch these films was to be exposed to graphic violence set to haunting music, footage from bus bombings, terror attacks, and other acts of brutality. Sometimes the footage was blurred and we were just informed about what we were seeing.

I watched many of these films as a teen, at a time when my parents wanted me to look away when there was a kissing scene in a movie.

I was banned from playing computer games that involved shooting, but welcomed to watch news footage of shooting attacks.

It is fitting , that in this period of my life, I was addicted, or at least dependent, on pornography.

Porn and violence both appeal to the primal part of our brain, the one that transcend logic.

Prostitution is the oldest profession.

Antisemitism is the oldest obsession. For Jews and non-Jews alike.

My father meanwhile, was producing violence porn.

My traumatic exposure to these visuals was disseminated under the guise of “prevention”, “awareness”, and “remembrance”.

Would the average terrorist not welcome the footage of their acts being broadcasted to more people? Would they not be appreciative of the fear of their actions being spread, free of charge, by their victims?

Yuval Noach Harari speaks about the negative impact that magnifying terrorism has – taking acts that are almost trivial in the scheme of deaths and violence that are already occurring within a given country and sensationalizing them, creating an outsized impact.

Terrorists and Nazis commit the acts. They are the perpetrators.

And then come the people who, horrified, share their message as broadly as they can. They are the perpetuators.

My life would have been infinitely better off if I had a lot less exposure to the shit my people went through.

The average Jew experiences infinitely more freedom and tolerance than any of their ancestors did for hundreds of years.

And instead of celebrating this, and moving on, we drag ourselves back into the mud.

Actively identifying as victims beyond the cross-generational trauma that is already flowing through our DNA.

Leave me out of it.

I resent the perpetrators.

And I resent the perpetuators.

Modes of transportation

Some run towards the fire,
Some run from it

Some ride towards the end.

Head held high, staunchly gripping the handlebars.

Others try to speed away from it.

Some honk.

Some would never honk.

Some prefer to experience it from the ass the of the car in front of them 160mph

Some are white knuckling it on the far-right lane.

In 1984, Harley Davidson released their Evo blockhead air0cooled engine featuring a unique 45-degreen V-twin layout that became a signature feature of their band.

Who’s to say there is a right way?

Places to go.

People to see.

The top 50 destinations you should see before you die.

Some fall asleep at the wheel.

Some fall into a trance, forgetting where they’ve been the last 20 minutes.

My mother says her last 20 years were like that.

I wonder what she means by that.

I wonder if she’s woken up yet.

The Mazda MX-5 features a Skyactive-G 16 4-cylindar engine with 181 horsepower at 7,000 rotations per minute that can propel its owner right out of his miserable existence for about 30 seconds.

Show, don’t tell.

Don’t talk about how obvious this metaphor is, death yawning at the end.

It’s a conveyor belt we’re on.

Emerging from the yawning black chasm of our parent’s disapproval.

Churning towards the inevitability we’re headed towards regardless of whether we choose to lie on the grass, inert, waiting for a parent, a paramedic, or our own children to come and save us.

The grand highway from cradle to the grave.

The Bagger 288 is manned by five people and can dig up 220,000 tons of coal per day.

Some prefer green. Some prefer red.

That uncanny feeling when only the others have a stoplight and you’re wondering if you’ve missed a cue.

Permission where no one else has.

Holding still while everyone else can proceed. 

The Cannondale Carbon 3 Synapse bicycle is a marvel of precision engineering.

Some should not be drivers at all.

But we’re all thrown into a car at the moment of birth and at some point, we slowly inch out of the passenger seat into the driver’s seat while the car is still in motion.

You need a license for a great many things.

But you don’t need one to become a parent.

Sometimes your only skill as a parent is your ability to ejaculate into a woman’s vagina.

Escaping Orthodoxy: Katrin’s Journey from Ultra-Orthodox Judaism to Secular Life

In this revealing episode, ‘Katrin’ shares her experiences growing up in an ultra-Orthodox Jewish community in England. She discusses the unique challenges of her upbringing in a restrictive religious environment characterized by lower-income neighborhood struggles. Katrin opens up about her nonconformity, neurodivergence, and queerness, which made her feel like an outcast from a very young age.

Her narrative delves into her eventual departure from the community, including her time in Israel, and the subsequent challenges and victories in building a life outside the religious framework. The discussion also touches upon broader themes of religious disillusionment, mental health, and the essential quest for a supportive, understanding community.

00:00 Introduction and Guest Background
00:36 Growing Up in a Religious Community
03:31 Struggles with Identity and Religion
06:30 Neurodivergence and Religious Constructs
09:29 Queer Experiences in a Religious Setting
14:10 Leaving Religion and Its Consequences
18:34 Journey Out of Religion
32:41 Transitioning to Social Care
33:33 Navigating Education and Funding
34:15 Family Support and University Decision
34:42 Reflecting on Career Choices
34:53 Self-Education Through Psychology
36:01 Balancing Practical Skills and Professional Growth
36:50 Personal Identity and Family Dynamics
37:45 Challenges of Leaving Religion
38:19 Unlearning Prejudices and Embracing Diversity
41:20 Navigating Safety and Privilege
44:35 Building Community and Finding Meaning
55:03 Advice for Those Leaving Religion
59:04 Interviewer’s Reflections and Common Themes

Episode Summary

In this powerful and introspective episode, we delve into the captivating story of Katrin, a pseudonym chosen to guard anonymity, as she shares her journey out of an ultra-Orthodox Jewish community. In this episode they explore themes of identity, community, mental health, and survival after leaving a strict religious environment.

Early Life and The Struggle for Belonging

Katrin’s story begins in the densely packed corridors of an ultra-Orthodox Jewish community. Despite growing up amidst religious fervor, she always felt like an outsider, a sentiment many can resonate with. “I was being pointed out as different before I even realized I was different,” Katrin recounts. Raised in a highly religious neighborhood, she was one of many children in an isolated and insular community, surrounded by strict religious norms and values.

Katrin’s experience highlights the struggles of growing up queer in a deeply conservative society. “Being queer, in terms of life, sexuality, and being what is not acceptable or normal,” Katrin explains, compounded her sense of not fitting in. This misalignment with both the religious teachings and the societal constructs around her shaped much of her early years and her eventual decision to leave the community.

The Religious Exodus and Mental Health

Katrin’s journey out was tumultuous and fraught with challenges. “I got kicked out of school,” she says, an event which paradoxically helped her to transition away from the religious constraints that bound her. Eventually, she found herself in Israel, a place she describes as having offered her a semblance of structure and stability amidst the chaos. “Having the option of a structure for a while, I think really worked for my brain,” she explains.

Mental health issues are a recurring theme in Katrin’s narrative. From dealing with neurodiverse traits to coping with depression and suicidal thoughts, her story underscores the critical intersection between mental well-being and the process of leaving a restrictive religious background. Therapeutic interventions played a pivotal role in her recovery and adjustment to a new life outside her former community.

Finding Community After Religion

Community is a central theme in Katrin’s story. The ultra-Orthodox community she left was tightly knit but also stifling. Upon leaving, finding or creating a new, supportive community became crucial. Katrin emphasizes the importance of seeking out like-minded individuals and building new connections.

“Finding something that connects you,” she advises, is essential. Whether through painting, walking groups, or other shared interests, creating a new community can be a lifeline. Katrin found solace in the queer community, which provided her with support and understanding that she desperately needed. “Be willing to be rejected,” she encourages, stressing the importance of persistence in forming new bonds.

Overcoming Prejudices and Unlearning

One of the most compelling aspects of Katrin’s journey is her conscious effort to unlearn prejudices and internalized beliefs from her former religious life. “I had to specifically train myself out of being, I don’t want to say racist, because I don’t think we ever were, but we didn’t know any Black people,” she admits, highlighting the inherent biases she worked to dismantle.

Her process of unlearning extended to overcoming antisemitism and negative beliefs about young mothers, among other things. This self-awareness and dedication to personal growth exemplify the hard work required to rebuild one’s identity after leaving a life steeped in rigid ideologies.

Finding Meaning and Purpose

Katrin’s reflections on finding meaning post-religion are profound. She believes in the interconnectedness of humanity and the significance of emitting positive energy. “We are born with a purpose,” she states, advocating for living a life that contributes positively to the world. This spiritual, rather than religious, outlook has guided her to focus on self-improvement and community support.

Concluding Thoughts: Advice for Others

For those considering or navigating a similar journey, Katrin offers steadfast advice. Seek out and build a community based on shared interests or aspects of your identity that resonate with you. Whether it’s joining clubs or groups or simply reaching out to others, the key is to persist despite possible rejections.

Ultimately, Katrin’s story is one of resilience, self-awareness, and the search for belonging. It sheds light on the multifaceted challenges faced by those leaving strict religious communities and offers a beacon of hope and guidance for others on a similar path.


Katrin’s journey out of an ultra-Orthodox Jewish community into a life of more freedom and acceptance is not only inspirational but also educational. Her emphasis on community, personal growth, and the importance of mental health can serve as a guide for many struggling with their own paths to authenticity and self-acceptance.

Current Weather in Hell

Hell
light snow
21.1 ° F
23.8 °
21.1 °
86 %
1.9mph
75 %
Fri
28 °
Sat
21 °
Sun
30 °
Mon
34 °
Tue
32 °

Even More Freidom

Pew Pew

Gedlya Goldfinger holstered his PsalmRay. Whereas the rest of the Goyishe Velt used neutron chips and nanotechnology to...

Chapter 16: Spreading Wings

I have long had a tenuous relationship with Israel. Israelis as a collective bug the shit out...

The Book of Life, or Something

“On Rosh Hashanah, we pray to be inscribed in the book of life,” explains Rabbi Feigenkrantz. “On...

Chumash as an Instagram Post

I think I was still religious when I made these. The writing was on the wall. Facebook...