Rachel's Story

This Closet Chokes Too Much: Growing Up as a Religious Lesbian in Israel

By Rachel

Immigrating at Age 11

At age 11, I immigrated to Israel. Everything was foreign and strange. I didn’t understand the language, I didn’t understand the culture, and I felt different, out of place in the local landscape.

“This experience imprinted itself deeply within me, creating a strong desire to belong—even if that belonging came at the cost of parts of my identity.”

Middle School Crushes and “Unhealthy Relationships”

Somewhere in eighth grade at Ulpana Horev, I fell in love with my counselor at Ezra. I needed to find an explanation for these intense feelings, for the thoughts that wouldn’t let go. I called it an “unhealthy relationship”, and continued to label all my crushes this way until I was 22.

“I hated myself for forming these attachments. On one hand, the relationships were powerful and exciting, but on the other, they were always unfulfilled, one-sided, and sources of frustration and shame.”

I tried not to feel, tried to repress, suffocate, and deny—but these efforts were doomed to fail.

Clinging to Belonging

I clung to belonging—to the national-religious sector, and primarily to the youth movement. I was a counselor at Ezra, did national service, and later began working in the national administration. I became a super-observant religious girl, dedicating every day to study.

I dated a variety of strictly observant boys, including Amichav, a shepherd from southern Mount Hebron, and Daniel, a sweet and gentle young man—my parents even met him. Yet there was always a familiar stage when anxiety would settle over me until I mustered the courage to end the relationship.

“Outwardly, everything appeared fine; inwardly, a great storm was locked away, occasionally bursting out.”

The First Confrontation with Truth

It wasn’t until I was 22, during psychological therapy, that I confronted the truth for the first time.

I spoke about the “unhealthy relationships” and my desire to stop creating them. The psychologist asked:

“Have you ever considered that these relationships involve love?”

That question paralyzed me. I sat quietly, frightened and terrified until the end of the session, and then went home.

I knew it was true. I knew I was a lesbian. I had known for years, but I had been busy repressing, denying, and feeling shame. All those years I feared the price I would have to pay to be myself: losing friends, family, the youth movement, the religious community. I imagined myself once again not belonging, once again foreign and different.

Finding Belonging and Love

At that time, I left the youth movement, began university, joined Bat Kol, and became secular. I found new friendships and a new place to belong. I discovered that falling in love was amazing, and what had once been a source of shame became a source of joy.

I shared my truth with close friends—most accepted me, some did not, and some harsh words were said that I still carry. I told my siblings, who accepted and embraced me from the start. I told my parents—the most difficult coming-out. They accepted me with love, despite their own difficulty.

Meeting Dana and Building a Family

At 25, I met Dana at a Bat Kol women’s Hanukkah party. We began dating a few months later, and 12 years later, we are still together. We married in the U.S., traveled, enjoyed life, and developed professionally.

“We have a wonderful family: two mothers, sweet Yotam and Noga, and of course, two adorable cats.”

Even my grandmother (ultra-Orthodox) accepted me and my family. I visited her in London with Dana. She passed away this year, but I will never forget the moment she told me on the phone that Dana was like a granddaughter to her.

Ongoing Challenges

Even alongside all the good, challenges remain. I have experienced numerous cases of overt homophobia over the years in Jerusalem. Often, I feel that people look at me and see me as “different” or “other.”

“I must live with this and remain strong, which challenges me but is also very important to me.”

When I think about the possibility of never coming out, I realize I would have suffocated there, along with all the shame, fears, and everything I had repressed.

Gratitude and Presence

I am joyful, grateful, and appreciative for everything I have, for being here today and not in the closet.

“Happiness is being able to live authentically, surrounded by love, family, and friends who accept me as I am.”