…a dream, not a dealbreaker.

When I was in shidduchim, many years ago, I was determined to “start off in Eretz Yisrael.” It was a make-it-or-break-it for me: Was the boy in learning, and would he start out in Israel?

When someone suggested a bochur who was learning in America and intended to keep learning locally after getting married, I was ready to give it an instant no — but first, I checked in with a rebbetzin I knew.

Her response was, “Location is not a deal-breaker.”

It sounds so simple now, but back then, it was revolutionary to me.

That shidduch didn’t pan out, and I did end up starting off married life in Israel, not America. But it gave me pause. Starting off in Israel is a dream. It certainly was mine. But when you zoom out to the bigger picture, it’s a small aspect of an entire life, marriage, relationship, and journey. It’s an extra. It’s not a deal-breaker.

…a lifeline for those from difficult backgrounds.

As a kallah teacher for many years, I can say that for some couples, especially those coming from complicated or painful home situations, starting out in Israel is not just “an experience,” it’s a lifeline.

Distance can be incredibly healing. It’s about going into a new marriage and leaving behind old dynamics, expectations, and unresolved baggage. Israel offers a chance for a clean start, and to build something new, solid, and healthy together.

You’re forced to rely on each other, not old patterns. You’re not constantly pulled back into family systems that may not be supportive or stable. For some, it’s the first time they can breathe and make their own choices.

Of course, like seminary, it is what you make of it. Distance alone won’t guarantee growth. Having financial stability is also a must. And if you can’t make Israel work, you can definitely achieve independence in other ways, too — living out of town or a little further away, choosing to make decisions and do things as a couple instead of defaulting back to parents and families of origin, and so on.

But for couples who need space to break cycles and lay a new foundation, I have seen from experience how starting off in Israel can offer new hope and a way to truly start fresh.

…a dream and a goal — as long as it’s working.

When I got married, starting out in Israel was an absolute must for me. I was in shidduchim for some time before getting married, and I also had a strong desire for independence. My husband was happy to start out there, too, but he didn’t need it like I did.

We were supported for some time, but once that ended, I still wanted — needed — to stay, and so we did. But in hindsight, it was a mistake. It was stressful. The financial strain was real. I wish I could say it made us stronger, but it didn’t, really. By the time we did move back, we were burned out on several fronts, and it took our marriage time to recover.

Look, if it’s working, then do it. Having some time in Israel as a couple can be an incredible gift. But if even one of you is struggling, don’t push it just because “everyone does it” or because it’s your dream or because of the many positive aspects of living there. If it’s not working, it’s time to reevaluate.

…for the individual, not the masses.

The Eretz Yisrael experience is unlike anything else. I personally feel that starting off married life there is a beautiful thing. But there’s no such thing in this world as one approach or location that is right for everyone. And there’s a danger that as soon as a practice becomes widespread, it becomes more about conformity than choice. And then we risk losing the values for the image or trend, or the need to do what everyone else is doing.

So my take is to do it, but only if it’s real, not because it’s expected. And if you’re going to do it, do it with your eyes open, with honest communication. Think — and reassess — if it’s right for both of you as individuals and as a couple. If it’s truly the place where you’ll grow best and build a family and future. If you can do it while leaning into your own strengths and needs, both as individuals and as a couple.

Bonus: The skill of learning to make decisions that are best for you as a couple, without looking sideways at what everyone else is doing? It’s probably the best skill you’ll ever learn, and the most important one you’ll ever use.

…a luxury that comes with hard work.

Starting off in Israel is a gorgeous, special, deeply beneficial thing for a couple to do, but like most good things, it’s not for everyone. I wouldn’t call it a necessity. I’d call it a luxury — not in the sense of “exclusive to the wealthy,” but in the sense of something extra-special that requires real investment if it’s going to work.

Materially, life in places like Lakewood is often more comfortable. Israel demands more from you. And that’s part of what makes it meaningful. You’re choosing something that’s harder — not for status or convenience, but for values that feel bigger than everyday motivations.

That said, hard doesn’t automatically mean holy. I believe that parental support, when it exists, should be structured, like a budget or “salary” for learning, not an unlimited credit card. Adults shouldn’t be living with uncapped access to someone else’s money. When support is given as a fixed amount, couples learn how to make real decisions: nicer apartment or less eating out, more work hours or fewer extras.

And for the record… when people talk about “Americans in Israel sitting around with iced coffee all day,” they’re seeing a tiny slice. Most couples are working very hard to make it work. The luxury isn’t ease. The luxury is choosing something demanding and rising to it.

…an incredible way to strengthen a marriage and core family unit.

One of the most powerful things about starting your married life in Israel is the independence it creates, especially emotional independence. You’re not running back to parents every other Shabbos. You’re not being constantly absorbed into extended family life. You’re building your own home.

Young couples raising children in Israel naturally form a strong core family unit. Being alone doesn’t weaken a marriage; it often strengthens it. You learn to solve problems without a safety net. You bond faster and deeper. You don’t outsource the hard parts; you face them side by side.

You have your own Shabbos table by default, and your children grow up, from the youngest age, with a quiet pride in their family. A sense of this is who we are, this is what we stand for, this is how we do things. That rootedness develops naturally, simply because you’re building your own home and not a still-emerging extension of someone else’s.

And that foundation often stays strong long after the family moves on.

…a once-in-a-lifetime chance to live in a true ruchniyus bubble.

Living in Israel — especially for couples with a husband who is learning — offers something incredibly rare: alignment. You’re surrounded by people working toward the same goals, on the same wavelength, in the same phase of life.

In many neighborhoods, there’s a narrow spectrum. Everyone is learning. Everyone is building a home around Torah. There’s less noise, less comparison, less pressure from neighbors “making it big” in business. Staying in kollel doesn’t feel like being stuck or “pausing before real life”; it feels like exactly where you’re meant to be.

That environment can be transformative for a couple’s growth in learning and ruchniyus. There’s less distraction, more focus, and a sense that you’re part of a greater whole.

If you push through the early hard days and settle into it, living there can change you as individuals, as a couple, and as a family. It’s a bubble you may never fully recreate again.

…a serious decision that requires real thought — especially when it comes to the long-term.

When you’re a newlywed thinking about where to start out, Israel can feel like an extended honeymoon. It’s exciting and special, living the dream, thriving in the center of the universe.

But there are real challenges involved, and it’s not smart to go without real thought (or stay long-term without serious consideration). You might be excited to make Shabbos as a couple, but can you handle Pesach on your own if circumstances don’t permit travel? Are you ready to give birth without your mother right there, learn to handle a newborn and motherhood across the world from your immediate family, or navigate a medical system in a different language?

Once your children are older, the questions are bigger. I often hear couples say, “We’re just taking it year by year.” There’s no commitment either way, not to living in Israel long-term, and not to moving back at a specified time. Which is fine — you don’t need to know everything on Day One of married life — but living in limbo carries risks, too. You never fully settle. Life doesn’t feel permanent, so you might be living in compromised conditions because you might move back soon, anyway. As children grow, this becomes more than just uncomfortable; it becomes risky.

The chinuch system in Eretz Yisrael is very, very different from the American or European models. Making the decision to stay long-term needs to come with awareness of what it will mean to your children and family, and if you’re ready to go all in, emotionally and practically, and become part of a different culture. Because at a certain point, taking it year by year stops working, especially when your kids reach an age when moving back would put them at real academic or social risk. They might be behind in the material. Their English may be weaker. They’re not used to the culture, the expectations, and the norms.

Starting in Israel is one question. Staying in Israel is another. And it’s important that both questions are asked and both decisions are made with thought, daas Torah, and clarity.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 980)