Religion is a complicated concept. And if you think about it, it’s weird. Really weird. My religious journey has been both complicated and weird. I feel that I’ve lost a part of my religion in college, which makes me sad, because it is something that I had to fight for, and struggle with, for a very long time.
My mother was Armenian Orthodox and my father is Jewish. When I was seven, my mother died, and my father was left to take care of me. I started attending Hebrew school, and my father found us a synagogue to attend. My mother’s family wanted me to embrace my Armenian heritage, and I was very resistant- they already were treating me as my mother’s replacement, and this was very hurtful to me. As I got older, my father and I became slightly more observant Jews. The age started nearing where I would have a bat mitzvah, the Jewish coming of age.
Judaism is matrilineal, which means that it goes through your mother’s side of the family. So technically, I wasn’t Jewish. In the conservative sect of Judaism, I could not have a bat mitzvah.
I talked to pretty much every person I knew, trying to decide what to do. I was worried that if I converted, I would be losing a very important piece of my mother. I worried that if I didn’t convert, I would never truly have a community in this world.
I wound up converting, and having my bat mitzvah. This caused a deep rift within my mother’s family, but ultimately was the right choice for me. I went to Jewish summer camp, where I met my best friends; I went to Hebrew school until I was 18; I even spent a semester abroad in Israel during high school. My Judaism has always been something that I question, but ultimately is always there for me.
In college, my father pushed me to join the Jewish groups, like Hillel, and go to synagogue and make the effort. Here, all the Jewish kids know each other and grew up together, so I’ve always felt like an outsider. I hate feeling excluded from something that has always welcomed me and been there for me. I hate feeling like I’ve lost an important piece of myself, and I hate that I let it disappear.
I miss my religion. I miss celebrating my religion in a comfortable environment, surrounded by people that I know and I love. I miss watching the sunset on the lake at camp, holding my best friend’s hand, in an environment that inspires me to be my best self. I fought for my religion, I put close relationships at risk for my religion, and I definitely don’t want to lose my religion. I hope that one day, maybe after I graduate, I can find that vital piece of myself again.