October 10, 2024
I noticed that the streets of Tel Aviv were empty of men – especially any eligible ones.
Within the first few months of the Israel-Hamas war, only older gentlemen and mostly women walked through the streets. Some men-owned stores remained closed due to the owners’ active involvement in the war, making it impossible for them to operate their enterprises.
I remember those first few months, watching as men disappeared for reserve duty, leaving me with a question: Will I find a mate?
They began to come back, slowly, as the army began to add in rotations. Suddenly I identified a new complexity. Men came home, yes, but many carried the weight of their trauma with them.
I felt it in the way they grabbed me – physically. I recall a specific week when I was handled by multiple men I didn’t know. Too hard, too sudden, too desperate – whether at a bar or even at a Shabbat dinner table.
Another thought crossed my mind: Why weren’t these men serving? Was it a lack of patriotism? A broken bone? Had they not been useful to their units?
Is anyone talking about dating during wartime?
Making romantic connections with the backdrop of sirens and pandemonium has made the dating realm a minefield of its own. The ongoing threat of conflict not only complicates matters but also makes it challenging to discern who truly had the ability to be present and who had returned broken.
WHILE I have not considered making a full-time return to my birthplace – New York City – there is someone who seems to think I should: my father.
In a simple call this week, he asked me to consider Jewish communities in the US that might suit my lifestyle, arguing that while I left New York for something else, there could be something beneficial for me in another city or state. He said he worries about my safety all day long.
Then came the guilt of wanting to stay – knowing there are others who don’t understand our connection to this land. They want to ensure our safety. But for many of us like me, who have built a full life in Israel, leaving doesn’t feel like an option. We are tied to this place, and managing the challenges of this hostile environment has become par for the course.
Two months before the war broke out, I ended a serious two-year relationship. It weighed heavily on me. During those first days after Oct. 7, when terrorists were still in the country, I was afraid to go to bed. I felt I had taken “self-care” to a new level.
Luckily for me, I did not have to go to sleep. Being a journalist has become my excuse. I worked through the nights, and it suppressed my feelings. But when I finally went to New York for Thanksgiving, the fear I didn’t realize I possessed followed me.
Every siren, every ambulance brought back the panic. I found myself looking for shelter in my parents’ home, only to realize there was nothing I needed to run from. It was only then that I realized I had my own version of PTSD.
At Thanksgiving dinner, my two young cousins hugged me and hung on to me. They would not let go. This lasted for several hours. They had no idea about my experience or what was going on in Israel. The comfort they gave me was something I’ll never forget.
I stood in the living room while my extended family buzzed about, laughing and catching up. For the first time, I felt like a stranger in my family. The turkey and fixings were warming in the kitchen, and I was frozen. I held in a cry – perhaps the first one. The physical affection of my little cousins was something I didn’t realize I needed so desperately.
My mind may not have been processing it, but my body… My body has remembered all of this trauma. My body needs hugs and touches from people who love me.
NOW BACK in Israel, my friend/rowing partner and I have started a ritual: Every Friday before we work out, we give each other long, substantial hugs.
I look forward to this. It’s something we both need. It’s a way for us to regulate ourselves in a country where every aspect of society is completely unregulated. While I am not a cigarette smoker, I have found myself, for the first time in my life, craving a cigarette.
After the second major Iranian missile attack, it occurred to me that I wanted a smoke, only to tune my body out and calm my nerves. It’s not hard to find cigarettes in Israel, and I now understand why.
We had been anticipating the first Iranian attack in April for several hours already. That day, I played matkot (beach tennis) until I could no longer stand. Upon reflection, it was an effort to calm my nerves. Since then, I’ve been playing for several hours a week. My body needs movement, sunshine, and play.
I SPOKE with some of my female friends about their experiences during this past year of war and found myself shocked at the responses. I have been friends with these girls for years. I have spoken to them every day since Oct. 7. But I have never asked them directly. How has this war taken a toll on your love life? On your anxiety? On your body? On your mind? The answers I got for this article were deep.
A couple of them reported a heightened sex drive – becoming more in need of intimacy and “support” as one friend described it. She also said that she found herself connecting with men who would then leave for reserve duty for a month, which lessened the likelihood of continuing the relationship. She ran into this issue with several eligible bachelors.
Another friend reported becoming more reclusive, focusing on supporting her family and less on herself. She would go out on dates but wanted to stay close to home to be near her pet. At this point, she feels a loss of momentum in general; the negativity of war has caused her to feel less energetic in her daily life.
One friend, a journalist, expressed her struggle to cope with the horrific footage she sees in the newsroom of the daily where she works. She also has a friend who was suffering because his family was in captivity. They were eventually released in the November hostage deal. However, like so many of us, she has felt that her life was on pause.
She said that with so much uncertainty, along with the possibility of major Iranian attacks, it’s hard to be our best selves. She told me, “Everything is energy,” and for her, lately, it’s been challenging to muster the excitement necessary for dating.
One of my friends has a life partner. “Sometimes, the end-of-the-world feeling can be romantic in a weird way, too. You know you are in it with the person who will never leave your side,” she told me. She said her capacity for love has become stronger and that she has become more protective and caring than ever before.
Others noted something that stuck with me: obsessive social media use. My friends who reported feeling less energized about dating added that they have become addicted to social media and that Instagram and Telegram are now their source of news about the war and how the rest of the world feels about the Jewish people and Israel.
The negativity has been impactful. One of my friends said she stopped eating and exercising.
IF YOU know anything about the history of this land, you know that it’s always been turbulent. There have been times of peace and times of stress and violence.
We happen to be living through a time of unrest, but this is not the end; the pendulum will swing.
Other friends have said that dating soldiers gives them a feeling of protection. One noted that she felt safe when her man brought his rifle to the restaurant.
Jacqueline, who hails from Europe, said she feels a “deeper connection as a result of the war” because it’s uniting. “My friends from abroad who were dating non-Jewish [individuals] are now dating Jewish. Maybe people are looking for more meaningful connections.”
One friend called the war an “emotionally enhancing journey,” explaining that it brings emotions to the surface – emotions inherent in each of us. For her, she finds herself in “decision paralysis,” not wanting to work and wanting instead to spend her time truly living. In fact, that’s how I feel when I play a game of matkot – like I’m living.
According to her, we can become victims of the war in every sense and blame it for any sabotage or lack of potential. However, she said, the truth is that our strength lies in our ability to connect and love despite it, even if it feels like it takes twice as much effort to reach the light.
“This is how we survive. We need to move forward. This is the test we must overcome,” she asserted. ■