An Open Letter to Queer Jews

If you feel like you've lost your safe spaces since October 7, you're not imagining it.

Since that day, an unspoken tension has thickened the air in places we once considered sanctuaries—the coffee shops where we laughed, the group chats where we confided, Shabbat tables and Pride parades that once felt inviolate. Many queer Jews have found themselves hesitating at the door, uncertain if it’s still safe to enter.

It’s undeniably lonely to watch familiar faces turn away or fall silent when our identities intersect. Ahuv, a valued member of our community, captured that pain precisely: “It was like a stab in the back. All of a sudden, my friends… turned on my people.” That sense of betrayal—of not belonging anywhere—has driven some to question whether they can be both fully Jewish and fully queer.

Many queer Jews report feeling unwelcome across the spectrum: rejected by the Right for being LGBTQ, alienated by the Left for being Jewish, and even pressured within some queer circles to conceal or downplay their heritage. For some, the isolation has been so acute that they’ve considered seeking refuge abroad, where Israel can feel like the only place to stand in solidarity with both aspects of their identity.

There’s even a growing feeling that for some of us, simply identifying as Jewish now feels like a second coming out. One person shared that after quietly adding a mezuzah to their doorframe, a friend they'd known for years asked them why they were "suddenly religious." They weren’t. They were just being visible. It reminded them how few spaces allow for both their queerness and their Jewishness to be seen without suspicion or assumptions.

Yet amid the silence, new connections are forming. Online forums and private messages have become lifelines. One community member described how a simple direct message on Reddit “I see you” led to coffee and, eventually, to a renewed sense of belonging. Others have shared stories of hiding their Star of David necklaces in queer support groups, only to discover dozens of fellow Jews reaching out with their own experiences and solutions.

Across Instagram threads, WhatsApp chats, and kitchen tables lit by Shabbat candles and rainbow tea lights, queer Jews are rebuilding spaces that honour both their heritage and their orientation. Even established organisations like Keshet UK have taken steps to protect their members, withdrawing from London Pride for the second year in a row due to safety concerns and the refusal of organisers to engage in antisemitism awareness training. As reported in the Jewish Chronicle, the absence of the Jewish bloc sent shockwaves through the community. It wasn’t just symbolic—it was survival.

According to a recent study conducted by JQY and the Jewish Education Project, nearly half of queer-identifying Jewish teens reported feeling less safe in Jewish spaces since October 7, and even more reported feeling less safe in queer spaces because of their Jewish identity. The overlap is where they feel most at risk. And yet, that’s also where they’re starting to find each other.

As Ben M. Freeman writes in Jewish Pride, “Our Jewishness and queerness are not contradictions. They are beautifully, powerfully, and authentically ours.”  This is central to what we want to accomplish. It’s the heartbeat of this project.

We are not a compromise. We are not a contradiction. We are whole. We are enough. We belong. This isn’t about palatability. It’s about proudly standing in all of who we are, despite a world that keeps asking us to pick a side.

This Pride Month, our devotion is to ourselves and to the queer Jewish future we’re forging.

“Our primary job as Jews is not to fight antisemitism. It’s to live as Jews.” said @zicksworld recently on Instagram, and he continues "Antisemitism is not a Jewish problem. It’s a societal illness. Our power lies in embracing our light, in loving our people, our heritage, our land, and ourselves more deeply than the world can hate us."

This lands with particular resonance this year. It reminds us that our resistance is not just in protest signs or Instagram posts. It’s in joy. In celebration. In choosing to live fully as Jews, not just in mourning, but in music and ritual, in family and found community, in pride and presence.

It’s not a plea to be palatable. It’s a challenge to be whole.

We know how hard it can be to stay visible and how much strength it takes to be loud and proud in a world that often asks you to shrink. So we’ve created a collection you can wear — not just as merch, but as a message. A statement that says: I exist. I belong. I’m not going anywhere.

And with every sale from our Pride collection this month, we’ll be making a donation to one of our favorite organizations supporting queer Jews. Want to help us choose? Leave a comment and tell us which group you'd like to see supported—and why.

Whether you're out marching or quietly holding space this Pride, know that you are not alone and your visibility matters. We see you. We’re with you. And we’re not going anywhere.

Benji K. is an editor and content writer for Jewish Swag Shop, blending journalism, culture, and community-building with purpose and nuance. Follow along @jewishswagshop on Insta and on TikTok