What Does It Feel Like After Conversion?

So you’ve been converting to Judaism for…how long? A year, two, more?

What does it feel like to actually cross the finish line? For many, completing the journey to become Jewish is a long-awaited moment – but the emotions that come with it might not be what you expect.

I can only speak for myself, but I’ve spoken with a lot of others. And honestly, the answers aren’t great. In my view, they’re kind of damning of the system.

The overwhelming feeling for most people I’ve talked to? Relief and freedom – the feeling that my life is mine again, and that the Sword of Damocles is gone. I no longer feared the sword dangling over my head, waiting to drop and kill me without warning at any time. Or at least make my life miserable…again.

Conversion candidates rightfully fear that there’s a Sword of Damocles hanging over their heads…because there is. You know that at any moment, your rabbi(s) can swoop in and turn your life upside down.

Too many conversion relationships involve abuse of power, wielding those Swords to control every aspect of your life. Even without overt abuse, the process leaves your life frozen: dating may be off-limits, your biological clock ticking, and your career or friendships scrutinized under a microscope.

I’ve heard from countless conversion candidates who’ve faced their own versions of this Sword – whether it’s losing jobs, uprooting their lives, or enduring emotional or sexual abuse. Sadly, these stories are far too common.

My conversion experience was devastating. I lost thousands of dollars, uprooted my life during a recession, and endured sexual harassment and emotional abuse. Then came an investigation by another beit din and the RCA, which only prolonged the pain. Six months later, I was converted by a more respected beit din – you can do the math on how that investigation turned out.

I know the Swords – I was cut nearly to death by them. They ruined my life, and they ruined my trust in rabbis. They simply have too much power over converting people, and most of them answer to no one but Gd. And unfortunately, Gd’s consequences usually aren’t very immediate, as any victim of abuse can tell you. Even the ones who answer to other rabbis might not actually face consequences, as in my case. The system is broken and there are perverse incentives in too many cases.

So when I finished my conversion, it wasn’t spiritual and meaningful. It was just relief. I was finally free. I cried because I felt 400lbs lighter.

My life was my own again. No one else was making decisions on my behalf again. My life was no longer on pause. I could finally, finally, finally move on with my life like a normal human being.

For too many of you, that’s also what conversion will feel like for you. I’m sorry.

The power dynamics in conversion need reform, and it’s important we speak out. That feeling of relief for most people leads them to want to put bad experiences behind them, shoving them down and moving on. (Spoiler alert: this can have unintended consequences later. Deal with your stuff, don’t stuff it down.)

Real consequences for bad behavior need to exist and actually be used, and conversion candidates deserve clear expectations, honest answers, and clear timelines.

If you’re struggling, reach out – to others who’ve been through it, to your support system, and to your own inner strength. Remember, you’re not alone. Together, we can advocate for reform and ensure that future conversion candidates face a system that prioritizes dignity and clarity.

I’m here to tell you this: there is an end, and it gets better. The process may be grueling and sometimes even soul-crushing, but you’ll move past it. You’ll reclaim your life and build a meaningful Jewish future on your own terms. Hang in there—you’re not alone.