Last week in Part 1 of this series, we talked about the emotional side of Jewish conversion — the overthinking, the comparison, and the pressure to prove yourself.
This week, we’re getting real about what happens after those emotions settle.
Because once the mikvah moment fades and ordinary life returns, new challenges begin: setting boundaries, avoiding burnout, and figuring out how to build a Jewish life that actually lasts.
In this second part, we’ll look at the most common practical mistakes new Jews make — from over-depending on rabbis to taking on too much too fast — and how to avoid them so your Judaism can grow with you, not against you.
If you missed Part 1, you can catch it here.
Otherwise, keep reading (or watch below) for the next step in building a Jewish life that’s sustainable, authentic, and deeply your own.
Transcript below.
Transcript:
Finishing a Jewish conversion feels like crossing a finish line. Mazel tov, you did it!
But here’s the catch: it’s actually the starting line.
Because once you’re officially Jewish, the next challenge is figuring out how to live that when the novelty fades and real life comes calling.
Last week in part one, we talked about the mistakes on the emotional side of conversion and how to avoid them: the overthinking, the comparison, the pressure to prove yourself.
This week we’re getting practical. What happens when the emotions settle and you have to start actually living your life?
Because that’s when the real learning begins: boundaries, burnout, and building something sustainable.
Everyone talks about how to convert: what to read, what to study, what to say to the Beit Din Almost no one talks about what comes after.
This video is for that part: the evolving, messy, beautiful middle between new Jew and the rest of your life.
Hi, I’m Kochava. I’m a Jewish convert, and I’ve been helping people convert to Judaism since 2010 through my blog, Building a Jewish Life.com.
If you like real talk and real tools like you see on this channel, you should probably join my mailing list at Building a Jewish Life.com.
And don’t forget to subscribe, of course.
So conversion ends with the mikvah, but becoming Jewish never really stops.
Real Judaism isn’t built in those big moments. It’s built in the quiet ones. The Tuesday mornings, the errands.
The ordinary acts that slowly become holy through repetition and your choices.
You don’t have to do it all, and you don’t have to do it perfectly. Spoiler alert: no one does.
What matters is that you keep showing up. One mitzvah, one prayer, one relationship, one breath at a time.
Because that’s where real belonging begins.
So now the first category of mistakes that we’re gonna look at is when boundaries get blurry and guidance turns into giving up your own voice.
Most of us start our Jewish journey leaning on the wisdom and support of rabbis, teachers, mentors… and that’s a good thing.
But sometimes the line between learning from someone and living for their approval can get a little blurry.
We talked more about that last week in the mistake about seeking validation in all the wrong places. But it also results in boundary problems, where healthy respect can turn into handing over your own judgment and not thinking for yourself anymore.
Pretty much every new Jew goes through a “rabbi” phase; the stretch where you treat your rabbi like a GPS for every decision.
It’s totally understandable until you realize that Judaism is meant to be a conversation, not a one way street.
And this applies equally in the reverse. If your rabbi or a teacher or a mentor is acting like you’re doing something wrong because you’re not treating them like a GPS for every decision… that’s also a boundary problem.
God gave you a brain to use it. Don’t outsource it to someone else. It’s perfectly fine and good to get guidance and seek out the wisdom of others who’ve gone before you, but you have to take responsibility for your decisions. And that means making a decision instead of outsourcing it to someone else.
That real work is learning how to honor their wisdom without losing your voice.
And it’s not just these leaders. You can also see boundaries blurring with friends, even social media, anyone who holds influence over your Jewish life.
They can start out as guides and then end up shaping your choices more than you realize.
Healthy boundaries aren’t about being distant or cynical . They’re about remembering that the Torah is meant to be learned with people, not for them.
And it’s so easy, especially when you are new and uncertain and nervous and so scared of screwing it up. It’s so easy to hand over too much power.
You wanna do it “right.” You want someone to tell you where the lines are. You just want someone to tell you what to do. That’s perfectly normal, and I feel that way sometimes too, even now.
But Judaism doesn’t work that way, or it’s not supposed to. Unfortunately, we are a religion full of human beings and humans are imperfect.
It’s supposed to be a healthy relationship with Hashem, with your community, and with yourself.
And if you’ve ever felt uneasy around an authority figure, pressured by a mentor, or unsure whether a relationship crossed the line, I’ve got a whole video breaking down red flags in the conversion process. And it’s equally applicable after the conversion is over too because spiritual boundaries matter just as much as halachic ones.
A good rabbi wants to teach you Torah, not control your calendar, your wallet, your relationships, or your sense of self.
You are allowed to say “thank you” and still choose your own path.
Mistake number two is forgetting that rabbis are people too. It’s not just about overdependence. Sometimes it’s about idealizing the people we look up to.
When you first start learning, it’s so easy to assume that teachers and rabbis have everything figured out.
That they hold some secret manual to “perfect Judaism.”
But here’s the thing. They’re human. They have limits, bad days, and inboxes overflowing like everyone else. They cannot be everything to everyone, and they’re going to disappoint you.
That is just the nature of human relationships.
The danger is that by idealizing these people, when they inevitably fail, you take it out on Judaism and assume there’s a problem with the system because this one cog fell apart.
There is no such thing as perfect Judaism, and there is no such thing as a perfect Jew. You’ll never get there and neither will your rabbi or your mentor or your teacher. Give people grace.
And don’t let their failures knock your relationship with Judaism down like a house of cards.
Mistake number three. Still in this family of problems: taking on other people’s halakha before you’re ready.
Pretty much every convert also goes through the Pinterest Judaism phase. It’s very closely tied to this idealizing of authority figures and mentors. You can do the same thing with social media, your friends, and the people you see at shul.
And it’s very easy and very seductive to wanna collect other people’s observances like Pokemon.
It’s beautiful until it burns you out.
You don’t need to replicate someone else’s version of Judaism in order to live a Jewish life that’s real. Your beit din converted you because they believe you’re prepared to live a Jewish life.
So don’t look around and assume that you’re failing and you’re behind everyone else. You’re ready or you wouldn’t be here.
Judaism isn’t a competition. You’re only competing against yourself, and competition probably isn’t even the right word.
It all comes from a good place: wanting to belong, wanting to do it right, wanting to uplevel your relationship with G-d and the community.
But Halacha isn’t one size fits all. There is enormous disagreement in every camp of Judaism.
Even within the Orthodox, there are so many camps with so many different interpretations of Halacha.
Focus on your community and what you need to live a Jewish life where you are, and what’s meaningful to you. Stop worrying about everyone else.
Start slow, start small, and make sure it’s yours.
Don’t measure your growth by someone else’s observance. Measure it by your integrity, your persistence, and the Simcha you bring to serving Hashem.
So don’t outsource your observance to Instagram, no matter how nice it looks.
Now once you figure out where other people’s boundaries are and where your boundaries are, the next step is figuring out who you are inside your Jewish life. That is where the identity growing pains begin.
Mistake number four, thinking your Judaism has to stay the same forever.
If you’re like most people, you won’t always be the kind of Jew you are right now, and that’s okay. Some people change a little. Some people change a lot, but if you’re standing still, you’re probably doing something wrong.
The way you practice, think, and identify doesn’t have to stay frozen in stone for the rest of your life.
Your relationship with Judaism will grow and change as you do, and it should, just like any meaningful relationship.
If your marriage is the same on day one as year 10, there’s a problem. Same is true for your Judaism.
You might find new communities, new philosophies, new rituals, or new rhythms of observance.
And none of that makes your earlier self any less “Jewish.”
Fundamentally, growth isn’t disloyalty. It’s the point.
Conversion ends with a mikvah, but becoming Jewish will never end, nor should it.
It’s allowed to evolve as you do, but you can only grow so much before you hit another kind of discomfort. Not from change, but from stillness.
After all the learning, the milestones, the intensity of conversion and the holidays, there’s suddenly a lot of quiet.
And for a lot of new Jews, that quiet feels wrong.
It’s when the emotional highs fade and the ordinary feels… just ordinary.
At some point, the excitement of becoming Jewish gives way to routine. And it can be jarring.
You feel like life after conversion should feel magical, “I have found the truth, capital T.”
It’s full of meaning and purpose.
Every holiday, every candle, every Shabbat, every blessing felt like A Moment.
Then one day it just feels normal again.
It might even be boring. Or worse, annoying. And it’s okay if it feels annoying. You’re normal. That is to be expected.
You’re trying to light candles while breaking up an argument between your kids.
You say a bracha half awake over your coffee. You forget what the week’s Parsha is.
And that’s okay.
It’s normal.
It’s not that you did anything wrong or that there’s anything wrong with Judaism.
It’s that real Judaism lives in the ordinary, not the highlight reel.
The goal was never to stay on a spiritual high, as seductive as that feeling is.
It’s to build a life that carries meaning through the lows.
To find G-d not just in the mountaintop moments, but in the Tuesday mornings and the grocery lists.
Because Judaism isn’t about chasing inspiration- it’s about weaving holiness into the mundane until the two are no longer separate.
You don’t have to do it all, and you don’t have to do it perfectly.
What matters is building a Jewish life that’s authentic, mindful, and sustainable.
One mitzvah, one prayer, one relationship, and one breath at a time.
Conversion is only the beginning.
The real journey is learning how to live as a Jew every single day.
It is about consistency, sincerity, and connection to Hashem and the Jewish people through ordinary life.
Jewish life unfolds in the small moments, in how we keep returning when it would be easier to give up.
So which of these mistakes do you find yourself struggling with the most? Drop it down in the comments below, and let’s support each other.
Don’t forget to subscribe, and if you like content like this, join the mailing list at Building a Jewish Life.com.
So here’s my fundamental point.
Keep building, slowly. Keep choosing growth over guilt.
That’s what makes a Jewish life: steady, faithful, and whole.
So keep showing up and you’ll find the holiness waiting for you there.
