‘When I Found Authentic Torah, It Was Like Electricity’
Brooklyn Torah Gazette | November 21, 2023
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‘When I Found Authentic Torah, It Was Like Electricity’

Brooklyn Torah Gazette | December 31, 2025

By Abigail Pogrebin

A roundtable with ‘baal teshuvah’ Jews—who grew up non-Orthodox but later chose Orthodoxy—about why they started their journeys, what they had to leave behind, and which aspects of religious life they love the most

The “Master of Return”

When secular or non-Orthodox Jews decide to become Orthodox, they are called baal teshuvah, which literally means “master of return.” Their numbers are large: According to a 2019 study, 42% of the modern Orthodox community in America is baal teshuvah; in Haredi or Hasidic circles, the numbers are smaller but still significant. The median age when they started to identify as Orthodox is 23.5.

For baalei teshuvah—the plural of baal teshuvah, sometimes colloquially called BT’s—this transformation does not happen overnight and involves a significant commitment when it comes to learning about Torah, Shabbat, kashrut, holidays, and the laws and customs around everything from tznius (modest dress) to niddah (purity laws).

Some baalei teshuvah I spoke to reported feeling persistent judgment from FFB’s—“Frum From Birth,” meaning those who were born into frum, or Orthodox, families. Some FFB’s worry that their children will be negatively exposed to a BT’s nonreligious friends or relatives. One baal teshuvah rabbi told me, “People question the potential for purity if someone has previously had a defiled existence.”

A Feeling of Inadequacy – “Like I’ll Never Catch Up”

Other baalei teshuvah told me that they remain overwhelmed by all the texts and tradition they will never master, no matter how diligently they try. “There’s a feeling of inadequacy,” one said, “like I’ll never catch up.”

However, in the roundtable discussion I had recently with 11 baalei teshuvah, the sentiment was overwhelmingly positive. Yes, some had to overcome misconceptions—their own, as well as those of other observant Jews—and some had felt friction from friends and family members who didn’t understand their transitions.

But they were mostly focused on what they had gained, how their lives had changed for the better, the things they valued most about their lives today. Virtually everyone I spoke to said that living a life oriented toward G-d and Torah added “truth” and “meaning” to their lives, and gave them a sense of purpose and community.

THE PARTICIPANTS

Their ages, locations, and when they became observant
Judy: 63, Los Angeles. “It probably started around the time I was 25 and I was fully committed by the time I was 27, when I got married.”
Yaakov: 34, Monsey, New York, originally from Częstochowa, Poland. “My journey began when I left Poland at the age of 15 in 2004.”
Fred: 71, Riverdale, New York. “It was a process; I don’t have the date.”
Esther: 37, LA, originally from Russia. “I decided to seriously observe Torah when I was in ninth grade.”
Yitzchok: 60, Bay Area, California. “The process was from age 20 till 23.”
David: 42, Michigan. “I started my journey at 18 and became frum—religious Orthodox—at 21.”
Bracha: 67, Baltimore. “I became observant at 22.”
Nina: 67, Skokie, Illinois. “I was in my mid-30s when it really started to stick.”
Chaya: 56. Denver. “I became observant at 26.”
Debby: 63, Toms River, New Jersey, originally from Australia. “I became shomer shabbes at 27.”
Yehudah: 43, Huntington Woods, Michigan. Became baal teshuvah at 33.
“Your question of when we made the transition is a little bit tricky. I just answered it based on when I became shomer shabbes [observing the Sabbath], shomer kashrus [keeping kosher]—just the basic elements of being able to live in an observant community. But I don’t feel like it’s a binary.”

Let’s address the term “baal teshuvah.” Can some of you weigh in on whether you use it?

Debby: I’m very comfortable with it. It’s something that was hard-earned, and there’s so much we can share with others. It’s a term that doesn’t have any negative connotations for me, only positive.

Bracha: I love telling people that I’m a baal teshuvah. It’s an interesting term because it means you’re a person who is returning to who you were, but it’s not like I’m returning to being observant, because I wasn’t. I’m returning to the essence of who I am. Another term that is used is mevakesh emes—a seeker of truth. I relate to that so much; we’re people who are seeking truth, and that’s what motivated us to return to a path of following the Torah’s guidelines.

Yaakov: I would describe myself as a deep thinker and spiritual person. What really began my journey was knowing that I’m Jewish, but not knowing what that means. I wanted to know. My grandfather attended cheder [religious elementary school] and learned Talmud; I wanted to taste that for myself. So in a way, I became baal teshuvah because I returned to the ways of my grandparents and my great-grandparents.

I’m also interested if anyone is not comfortable with the term?

Yehudah: It is a little bit fraught with some issues. I don’t think it’s a negative term, but it might be a loaded term in some Jewish communities.

What do you mean by “fraught”?

Yehudah: You’re not supposed to remind somebody about when they weren’t observant. It’s similar to why you’re not supposed to remind somebody if they’re a ger [a convert]; it’s not necessarily helpful to the person in their own development. The other side of it is I think that the term baal teshuvah is limiting because we’re human, and humans do a lot of things that aren’t ideal, regardless of how observant they might be externally. People do sometimes make a lot of assumptions about people based on that term or status. So, I don’t find that to be a helpful descriptor. I don’t have a problem being called it; I just think it’s too limiting.

I became ‘baal teshuvah’ because I returned to the ways of my grandparents and my great-grandparents.

Can I just see a show of hands: How many of you changed your name because of the transition to a more religious life? I see four: Bracha, Yitzchok, David, Esther, Yehudah—you’re gesturing “sort of.”

Yehudah: I was Yehudah at my bris, named after my great-grandmother, who escaped pogroms when she was 16 years old. I added my second name, Leyb, when I got married and became religious.

What is one of the best, beautiful aspects of the life that you live now—religiously?

Debby: That life is not random. I know that now—intellectually, instinctively, emotionally: It’s not random. There is a G-d in the world and everything is run by that Creator. Just living with that awareness—I don’t know how people live without it. We all go through so much. I don’t know how people survive trauma or tragedy without that awareness. I am so grateful that that is my reality.

Judy: Our grandchildren. We have 11 grandchildren and almost all of them carry the names of our parents or even my grandparents. So, I have a Dov Ber, a grandson, named for my grandfather, who—when he came to the United States—couldn’t go by Dov Ber. I feel a chill even saying this, looking by contrast at relatives and acquaintances of my vintage whose kids are barely Jewish. Seeing that continuity in my family and that they’re happy and being raised with a sense of who they are. It’s just unbelievable. It’s overwhelming.

Fred, do you want to share something that changed for the better?

Fred: Sure, it actually comes to mind pretty easily. I sound like a real baal teshuvah. Shabbes, the chagim—the Jewish calendar overall. If you don’t appreciate it, I don’t know what you would appreciate. It’s remarkable how it sets your year and also

By Abigail Pogrebin

A roundtable with ‘baal teshuvah’ Jews—who grew up non-Orthodox but later chose Orthodoxy—about why they started their journeys, what they had to leave behind, and which aspects of religious life they love the most

The “Master of Return”

When secular or non-Orthodox Jews decide to become Orthodox, they are called baal teshuvah, which literally means “master of return.” Their numbers are large: According to a 2019 study, 42% of the modern Orthodox community in America is baal teshuvah; in Haredi or Hasidic circles, the numbers are smaller but still significant. The median age when they started to identify as Orthodox is 23.5.

For baalei teshuvah—the plural of baal teshuvah, sometimes colloquially called BT’s—this transformation does not happen overnight and involves a significant commitment when it comes to learning about Torah, Shabbat, kashrut, holidays, and the laws and customs around everything from tznius (modest dress) to niddah (purity laws).

Some baalei teshuvah I spoke to reported feeling persistent judgment from FFB’s—“Frum From Birth,” meaning those who were born into frum, or Orthodox, families. Some FFB’s worry that their children will be negatively exposed to a BT’s nonreligious friends or relatives. One baal teshuvah rabbi told me, “People question the potential for purity if someone has previously had a defiled existence.”

A Feeling of Inadequacy – “Like I’ll Never Catch Up”

Other baalei teshuvah told me that they remain overwhelmed by all the texts and tradition they will never master, no matter how diligently they try. “There’s a feeling of inadequacy,” one said, “like I’ll never catch up.”

However, in the roundtable discussion I had recently with 11 baalei teshuvah, the sentiment was overwhelmingly positive. Yes, some had to overcome misconceptions—their own, as well as those of other observant Jews—and some had felt friction from friends and family members who didn’t understand their transitions.

But they were mostly focused on what they had gained, how their lives had changed for the better, the things they valued most about their lives today. Virtually everyone I spoke to said that living a life oriented toward G-d and Torah added “truth” and “meaning” to their lives, and gave them a sense of purpose and community.

THE PARTICIPANTS

Their ages, locations, and when they became observant
Judy: 63, Los Angeles. “It probably started around the time I was 25 and I was fully committed by the time I was 27, when I got married.”
Yaakov: 34, Monsey, New York, originally from Częstochowa, Poland. “My journey began when I left Poland at the age of 15 in 2004.”
Fred: 71, Riverdale, New York. “It was a process; I don’t have the date.”
Esther: 37, LA, originally from Russia. “I decided to seriously observe Torah when I was in ninth grade.”
Yitzchok: 60, Bay Area, California. “The process was from age 20 till 23.”
David: 42, Michigan. “I started my journey at 18 and became frum—religious Orthodox—at 21.”
Bracha: 67, Baltimore. “I became observant at 22.”
Nina: 67, Skokie, Illinois. “I was in my mid-30s when it really started to stick.”
Chaya: 56. Denver. “I became observant at 26.”
Debby: 63, Toms River, New Jersey, originally from Australia. “I became shomer shabbes at 27.”
Yehudah: 43, Huntington Woods, Michigan. Became baal teshuvah at 33.
“Your question of when we made the transition is a little bit tricky. I just answered it based on when I became shomer shabbes [observing the Sabbath], shomer kashrus [keeping kosher]—just the basic elements of being able to live in an observant community. But I don’t feel like it’s a binary.”

Let’s address the term “baal teshuvah.” Can some of you weigh in on whether you use it?

Debby: I’m very comfortable with it. It’s something that was hard-earned, and there’s so much we can share with others. It’s a term that doesn’t have any negative connotations for me, only positive.

Bracha: I love telling people that I’m a baal teshuvah. It’s an interesting term because it means you’re a person who is returning to who you were, but it’s not like I’m returning to being observant, because I wasn’t. I’m returning to the essence of who I am. Another term that is used is mevakesh emes—a seeker of truth. I relate to that so much; we’re people who are seeking truth, and that’s what motivated us to return to a path of following the Torah’s guidelines.

Yaakov: I would describe myself as a deep thinker and spiritual person. What really began my journey was knowing that I’m Jewish, but not knowing what that means. I wanted to know. My grandfather attended cheder [religious elementary school] and learned Talmud; I wanted to taste that for myself. So in a way, I became baal teshuvah because I returned to the ways of my grandparents and my great-grandparents.

I’m also interested if anyone is not comfortable with the term?

Yehudah: It is a little bit fraught with some issues. I don’t think it’s a negative term, but it might be a loaded term in some Jewish communities.

What do you mean by “fraught”?

Yehudah: You’re not supposed to remind somebody about when they weren’t observant. It’s similar to why you’re not supposed to remind somebody if they’re a ger [a convert]; it’s not necessarily helpful to the person in their own development. The other side of it is I think that the term baal teshuvah is limiting because we’re human, and humans do a lot of things that aren’t ideal, regardless of how observant they might be externally. People do sometimes make a lot of assumptions about people based on that term or status. So, I don’t find that to be a helpful descriptor. I don’t have a problem being called it; I just think it’s too limiting.

I became ‘baal teshuvah’ because I returned to the ways of my grandparents and my great-grandparents.

Can I just see a show of hands: How many of you changed your name because of the transition to a more religious life? I see four: Bracha, Yitzchok, David, Esther, Yehudah—you’re gesturing “sort of.”

Yehudah: I was Yehudah at my bris, named after my great-grandmother, who escaped pogroms when she was 16 years old. I added my second name, Leyb, when I got married and became religious.

What is one of the best, beautiful aspects of the life that you live now—religiously?

Debby: That life is not random. I know that now—intellectually, instinctively, emotionally: It’s not random. There is a G-d in the world and everything is run by that Creator. Just living with that awareness—I don’t know how people live without it. We all go through so much. I don’t know how people survive trauma or tragedy without that awareness. I am so grateful that that is my reality.

Judy: Our grandchildren. We have 11 grandchildren and almost all of them carry the names of our parents or even my grandparents. So, I have a Dov Ber, a grandson, named for my grandfather, who—when he came to the United States—couldn’t go by Dov Ber. I feel a chill even saying this, looking by contrast at relatives and acquaintances of my vintage whose kids are barely Jewish. Seeing that continuity in my family and that they’re happy and being raised with a sense of who they are. It’s just unbelievable. It’s overwhelming.

Fred, do you want to share something that changed for the better?

Fred: Sure, it actually comes to mind pretty easily. I sound like a real baal teshuvah. Shabbes, the chagim—the Jewish calendar overall. If you don’t appreciate it, I don’t know what you would appreciate. It’s remarkable how it sets your year and also

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