As the summer wedding season kicks off in Israel, a quiet crisis is unfolding: the emotional toll of wartime on those who are not married. For many men and women, the ongoing war has intensified the yearning for connection, relationship, and love. But the very conditions of war — stress, trauma, and instability — have made it harder than ever to build the bonds that lead to lasting partnerships.
In a country where every loss is felt as a collective wound, the act of building a relationship — of creating a new home — becomes more than a personal endeavor. It becomes an act of national healing.
Over the past months, I’ve received calls from countless concerned parents, friends, and community members echoing the same stories: women hesitant to date men recently called to service (or those who may be called again); soldiers breaking off relationships because of their experiences in combat; relationships collapsing under the weight of trauma; and soldiers returning home emotionally overwhelmed, unable to even consider dating. While some are propelled by a deep desire to forge meaningful bonds amidst the chaos, many fledgling relationships have simply unraveled — casualties of emotional overload, shifting schedules, and an ongoing sense of uncertainty.
Perhaps the most significant hurdle I’m seeing is the psychological leap from survival mode to intimacy. Everyone — whether on the front lines or at home navigating red alerts and disrupted routines — is carrying an unnatural level of tension. Trauma-related issues are taking an increasing toll. For many who are not in long-term relationships, a painful paradox is at play: just when the desire for love is strongest, the emotional resources to pursue it are depleted. Hearts, in a constant state of alert, struggle to open. Vulnerability feels dangerous. Even going on a date feels like a risk.
Don’t get me wrong. Even married couples are reporting strains — distance, anxiety, estrangement, even divorce. But for singles, the isolation may run deeper. Anxiety hangs in the air like background noise, draining the bandwidth needed to nurture something new. Many are quietly asking themselves:
Can I start a relationship? Is it responsible? Is it fair?
And then there’s a rising, heartbreaking refrain from women: “The men have disappeared.” Some have fallen in battle. Others are injured. Many more are simply unreachable — emotionally shut down, consumed by the aftershocks of battle, or burdened by the weight of survival. Their absence is more than physical; it’s emotional, societal — and deeply felt.
The war has also shifted the dynamics of the dating world. Combat soldiers are often elevated to hero status — rightfully admired, yet also placed on a pedestal that leaves others, who contribute in quieter, but no less essential ways, overlooked. Educators, medics, logistics professionals, volunteers, even non-combat soldiers — all part of the national effort — may find themselves sidelined. This creates a quiet hierarchy that adds to the emotional toll.
Then there is the social disparity that too often goes unspoken. Families of reservists are embraced by the community — with meals, visits, concern. But the single reservists who don’t have families? No one brings them food. No one checks in. They become invisible, carrying a form of loneliness that cuts especially deep in times of national trauma.
At The Eden Center, the nonprofit I lead, we see relationship-building as part of national resilience. We believe that creating strong, healthy, stable homes is a form of resistance — a declaration of continuity in the face of destruction. Choosing love amidst grief is an act of defiance against despair.
The longing for love is not a luxury; it is human. And building relationships is not just the responsibility of singles. It is a collective mission. We all have a role to play: friends, families, matchmakers, neighbors. Whether you extend a warm dinner invitation, suggest a thoughtful introduction, or simply offer an open heart and a listening ear — each gesture matters. Each act of care can become an anchor.
If we truly listen — if we dare to acknowledge both the pain and the potential of those who are seeking relationships in our communities — we may just begin to heal some of the deeper wounds this war has opened.
Let’s build a society where no one feels alone in their longing. Where love, even in wartime, finds a way home.
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Become part of the conversation — to validate these struggles, and to find new ways to support those searching for connection in this difficult time. The Eden Center is bringing together mental health experts, community leaders, educators, and singles. Together, we can help ensure that every soul feels seen and supported. Join us for our upcoming conference on “Dating and Relationships in the Wake of War,” on
Tuesday, June 10th 17:00-21:30 at the Nefesh B’Nefesh Campus in Cinema City, Jerusalem.
Register at
https://tickchak.co.il/82224
Dr. Naomi Marmon Grumet is the Founder and Director of The Eden Center in Jerusalem, which works to improve the experience of mikveh and through it to promote the spiritual, emotional and physical health of Jewish women and families. She developed an extensive Training Program for Mikveh Attendants, providing resources for positive communication, and women’s lifecycle and crisis moments. She received her PhD in Sociology from Bar Ilan. Naomi lives in Jerusalem with her husband and three children.
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