Post-Sherut

Hey, it’s me, your friendly neighborhood bat-sherut/olah chadasha. Except, it’s been a while, and I’ve finished my sherut leumi. I’m also not really considered very “chadasha” anymore.

So, what exactly does life look like now? As someone who made aliyah, the most comforting thing was the support system that I fell into upon arrival. Bnot Sherut receive help in a multitude of ways, including financial, emotional, and even housing assistance, among many other benefits. So, once that’s over, most Israelis just move back in with their family. Sherut leumi was the experience that taught them about independence, and now they’ll probably either move back in or start their next phase of life in their hometown. However, for people who make aliyah, sherut leumi is almost the opposite. Instead of being simply a taste of independence, it’s really a system that grounds us and supports us in this new and scary world, where we have to be independent in everything we do. 

Once that’s over, we become people who just live in Israel. We are dropped amongst the sea of other young adults in whatever city has the cheapest rent, and essentially are made to sink or swim. It’s a bit of a harsh transition, from having almost everything provided, with steady checks and monthly meetings and a job that you can be certain of every day, to becoming an adult living in a country where your family does not.

There is something strange about making aliyah and having your identity be defined by the fact that you came here to do your service. You’re a “bat sherut bodeda” (lone bat sherut), and everyone around you wants to commend you and help you in as many ways as they can. Except, it can be even stranger to have that identity and support become a sort of crutch, only for it to end, leaving you only with yourself and your strong resolve that Israel is where you belong.

Personally, it hasn’t been all that easy. That’s not to say that everything isn’t going really great. I have a beautiful apartment in Jerusalem with 2 amazing roommates, I started school, and I have a great job. I’ve learned so much in these 2 months since sherut has ended about Israeli life, and how to function as an adult. 

However, going from volunteering and serving Israel every day to just kind of living a regular life is the part that’s been hard. Getting caught up in trying to figure out life can be so preoccupying that sometimes we forget why we came here in the first place. It can be hard to find meaning in the monotonous, the everyday, no matter where you live. Despite “living the dream” by being in Israel, I’m really just a student with a part-time job and a million other tasks to do, trying to make it through the week.

The lack of a consistent system set up for me, where every single day I am reminded that what I’m doing matters and is important, has allowed me to somewhat drift amongst the sea of people who do things just for the sake of doing them. I’ve started trying to be more conscious of this, to remember every day where I am and why I’m there, and to be grateful for this special life that I’ve created for myself.

Learning to be independent in almost every way possible, while also trying to navigate my feelings about being essentially alone in a country that is still very new, is a challenge. It’s important never to forget that, despite falling into routine and responsibilities, I have chosen to come here for a reason. Israel is where I belong, and by living my life here, every day inherently has meaning. 

The most important part of all of this is to know that, despite it feeling really hard sometimes, we are never alone. The communities available for olim here are endless, and there are opportunities for meaning every single day. We can never forget why we’re here, and if we remember that, we will never truly feel alone.