10/05/2026
Tikkun HaNefesh: From Isolation to Community
Reflections from Team Congregation B'nai Israel and the Strength in Strides Domestic Violence Awareness Walk
On October 11, I will participate in the Strength in Strides Domestic Violence Awareness Walk as part of Team Congregation B'nai Israel.
Many people will walk to raise awareness, support survivors, and help Peaceful Paths continue its important work. I will be walking for those reasons as well.
But I will also be walking because this cause is deeply personal.
Many members of our congregation know me as I am today. They see me at services, community events, and synagogue activities. They know me as a writer, a congregant, a survivor, and the person walking around with a golden retriever named Slate. What many do not know is that before this chapter of my life, there was another one.
There was a time when I traveled the world. I flew first class. I stayed in luxury hotels. There were concerts, theater performances, fine restaurants, spas, and experiences that many people spend a lifetime dreaming about. There was financial security and social status. From the outside, it appeared that I had everything. That is one of the reasons domestic violence can be so difficult for people to understand.
People assume that if a life looks successful, it must also be safe and happy. Sometimes it is not. Behind the appearance of privilege was a growing pattern of control, emotional abuse, isolation, and the gradual loss of independence. Decisions that should have been mine were no longer mine. My confidence eroded. My world became smaller and smaller. One of the most painful aspects was the isolation.
People often imagine isolation as someone being physically prevented from seeing family and friends. Sometimes it is much more subtle. Relationships can be undermined little by little. People who are important to you can be turned against you. Mental health struggles can be used to discredit you. Friendships disappear. Family relationships become strained.
Eventually, I found myself feeling almost completely alone.
I was surrounded by people, yet increasingly isolated. And because I had worked so hard to convince everyone that my life was wonderful, telling the truth became extraordinarily difficult. How do you explain that the life people admire is not the life you are actually living?
Yet even as my personal world was growing smaller, another world was opening. I had begun exploring Judaism. What started as a spiritual search gradually became one of the most important journeys of my life. As I studied Judaism and prepared for conversion, I found teachings that spoke about human dignity, justice, responsibility, and the sacred value of every life. But I found something else as well. I found community.
As I became involved in synagogue life, I met people who welcomed me, encouraged me, and accepted me. They did not know the full circumstances of my life, nor did they realize how important their kindness would become. At a time when isolation was becoming one of the defining features of my personal life, I was discovering connection.
At a time when my confidence was being diminished, I was discovering a tradition that taught that every human being is created b'tzelem Elohim, in the image of God. At a time when I was beginning to doubt my own worth, Judaism was teaching me that every life possesses inherent dignity.
Looking back now, I believe that finding Judaism and finding a Jewish community helped me find the courage to leave. The more I learned, the harder it became to accept a life defined by fear, control, and isolation. The more connected I became to my congregation, the more I began to understand that healthy relationships were built on mutual respect rather than control. For years, my world had been shrinking. The Jewish community I found helped it begin expanding again.
Leaving was not simply a decision to end a relationship. Leaving meant walking away from financial security, social standing, possessions, familiarity, and an identity I had spent years building. It meant giving up a life that looked successful from the outside in exchange for a future filled with uncertainty. There was no first-class ticket waiting for me on the other side. There were motel rooms. There were food banks. There was an apartment in a drug neighborhood which was all I could afford. There was fear. There was the challenge of rebuilding a life from the ground up. There was the experience of being stalked while trying to establish a new future.
Today, when people see me at synagogue, they see the person who survived those experiences. What they do not see is everything that was lost along the way. They do not see the life that came before.
They do not see the social status, the financial security, the travel, the possessions, or the carefully constructed image that once defined me.
Domestic violence survivors often lose far more than a relationship when they leave. Sometimes they lose a way of life. Sometimes they lose relationships. Sometimes they lose financial stability. Sometimes they lose the identity they have spent years building. There is grief in that loss. There is mourning for the future you believed you were going to have.
Yet despite all that loss, I gained something infinitely more valuable. I gained myself. When I look back now, I realize that my journey into Judaism was deeply connected to my journey out of domestic violence. The Jewish belief that every person is created b'tzelem Elohim, in the image of God, became more than an idea. It became personal. If every person possesses inherent dignity, then I possessed inherent dignity too. If every person deserves respect, then I deserved respect. If every life is sacred, then my life was sacred as well.
The Torah teaches us, u'vacharta ba'chayim,"choose life." For many years, I thought survival was enough. Judaism taught me that life is meant to be more than survival. The principle of pikuach nefesh, preserving life, reminds us that protecting human life and safety is among our highest obligations. The pursuit of tzedek, justice, calls us to build a world where people can live free from fear and abuse.
And the concept of Tikkun HaNefesh, repairing and healing the soul, speaks deeply to me because rebuilding a life after domestic violence is not simply about finding safety. It is about becoming whole again.
Looking back, I do not see my conversion and my decision to leave as separate journeys. They were intertwined. The teachings of Judaism helped me rediscover my worth. The Jewish community I found helped me rediscover my strength. Together, they gave me something I desperately needed at that point in my life: the belief that I deserved safety, dignity, belonging, and the freedom to determine my own future.
That is why this walk matters so much to me. I walk for the person I once was. I walk for those who are trying to leave and cannot yet see a path forward. I walk for survivors who are rebuilding their lives one day at a time. I walk for those who have lost homes, financial security, relationships, and identities in their search for safety.
The support of my brother helped sustain me through some of the hardest years of my life. The support of community helped me continue moving forward. My Jewish community became part of the foundation upon which I rebuilt.
That is why I am proud to walk with Team Congregation B'nai Israel.
When we participate in Strength in Strides, we are doing more than attending a community event. We are putting Jewish values into action. We are standing with survivors. We are supporting organizations that save lives. We are helping ensure that when someone finally finds the courage to leave an abusive situation, there will be resources, advocates, shelter, and compassionate people waiting to help. Most of all, we are sending a message to those who may still be suffering in silence: You are not alone.
I hope you will consider joining our team, making a donation, or helping spread awareness about this important cause. Every step matters.
And sometimes, knowing that someone is willing to walk beside you can make all the difference.
L'Shalom,
Marie Shalomit Fishman 🐠
Team Congregation B'nai Israel
Strength in Strides Domestic Violence Awareness Walk
