Not many people know this, but I was a child who was bullied on a playground for years. My lunch was ripped from my hands, my backpack thrown in the mud, lies whispered behind my back, fingers pointing, laughter ringing in my ears. Every day brought a new insult, a new fight. I ran, I hid, I flinched, and every adult seemed blind to the small wars raging around me.

Then one day, I pushed back. I defended myself. I couldn’t carry on like this. I had had enough. Suddenly, all those who were quiet before yelled at me- “Hey! You’re  such a bully.” Some even said that I was the one who started the fights to begin with.

But they didn’t see what happened to me before. They weren’t really there.  They just heard about it from someone. Someone who was blind to what happened to me before. They only saw the moment I stood up, when I tried to protect myself, and ignored everything that led to it.

The sad truth is, I was bullied from the moment I was born, even prior. Even before I drew my first breath. Even before I became who I am. Hunted, pushed, blamed. Until one day I said no more. ——————

I saw this child. I know this child. That child is my homeland.

It’s a story as complex as time, compelling as a spell. Or a curse?

Its story is now mine and my people’s. It ties us in an unspoken bond of faith. An oath and a promise. A promised land.

The story goes far beyond rivers and seas. Slogans and viral videos. Beyond religions and boundaries. It touches the lives of people so far removed in an unfathomable way.

I’m a Jew. I was born on a tormented land, a vividly, painfully torn land. Before I knew simplicity, I knew conflict. It was in my mother’s milk along with honey. My native language is Hebrew. My second was Arabic, though I can’t speak it now — I wish I could.

I’ve lived through seven major conflicts, among them two wars. I ran to bomb shelters and hermetic rooms as a child. I saw death. I lost friends and relatives. These experiences taught me what it means to survive, to endure, to defend without losing sight of who I am.

I’m a Jew. Throughout my life, I’ve gathered many titles without my consent: an aggressor, a bully, a genocider, a white colonist.

I’m Adi. An immigrant Zionist. Have we ever met? Where does your knowledge of me and my people come from? A friend? A foe? A viral video? Did you fact-check it? How well do you really know me? How well do you know my people?

I am a Jew, rooted in an ancient culture, carrying thousands of years of history wherever I go. I carry trauma. I carry suffering. Nuance, heritage depth and strength.

My spirit is unbreakable.

I am a peacemaker, born in a war zone. I value peace because I know how fragile it is.

I believe in non-violence though I know it’s a utopian concept

And  I will not be silenced. Not by you, not by them. And no matter how far I am, I will never abandon my home. I will never abandon my roots. I will never abandon my land.

I will never abandon that bullied child.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)