I couldn’t hide my Jewishness, if I tried. I mean — my name is Tehilla Goldberg! Plus, apparently I dress the part of feminine Jewish religious.

Many times in my life when I’d be in a neutral setting, I was referred to or approached with the assumption that I was Jewish, and sometimes even Orthodox Jewish.

For me, it was always a point of pride. I lived and breathed Judaism. In my own way, I strongly viewed myself as an ambassador of the Jewish people.

Anytime I would find myself in circumstances interacting with non-Jewish strangers I’d go out of my way to do something kind, and I would seal the conversation with the word: Shalom.

Let them know I was Jewish, I’d think to myself.

It was important to me.

But I never wore a Star of David pendant. In my circles it just wasn’t done. I was so Jewish in all areas of my life, it’s not like I needed an external physical reminder or way of announcing it. Intrinsically, my name and persona announced itself Jewishly.

When the Oct. 7 massacre happened, everything about my Jewishness until that point in my life changed instantaneously. Suddenly, I felt a burning desire to purchase and wear a Star of David necklace. Having that six pointed interlocking triangle around my neck mattered to me. It was an instinct I felt.

It was an instinct I’d apparently shared with hundreds of thousands of other Jews worldwide who felt the same. I wanted that universal symbol of Jewish identity to shout my Jewishness the moment anyone as much as glanced at me.

I felt on fire about it.

Not only did the brutal attack on us for being Jewish not catalyze feelings of shame in me; to the contrary, it fiercely brought out even deeper Jewish pride within me.

The symbol of the star of David was subverted during the Holocaust when Jews were forced to wear the six-pointed yellow star with the thick black lettering of the word “Jude” (“Jew” in German) at its center. This was to shame, isolate and target Jews for discrimination. So the Oct. 7 with the one day Holocaust-esque massacre made me to want to wear that Star of David as a point of pride.

Well, life was been extremely hectic since that Oct. 7 and I never got around to procuring that Magen David necklace, even though, since that fateful day, at times it’s been a difficult road. There have been shocking and hurtful changes in certain connections I had valued with non-Jewish people in my life. From some, there’s been total silence since Oct. 7.

I had pictured a very small gold or pave encrusted Star of David, with strands of gold attached at each side of the outer points.The sense of importance I had given it hadn’t disappeared, but waned.

Then, last week, I was at the shuk in Jerusalem when, without thinking about the necklace, I spotted one that caught my eye. The tiniest Star of David, placed on the side of a gold chain. This Jewish emblem of pride, sharing a space on this golden chain with two other petite Jewish symbols: a hamsa — the palm-shaped amulet that is a sign of protection, warding off the evil eye — as well as the two lettered Hebrew word chai, meaning “life.”

I hadn’t planned on getting anything that intricate, or more than the Star of David. But it was so tiny, delicate and just all around perfect — rendered exactly to my taste with a bit of a vintage feel — that right then and there I decided to treat myself to this trifecta of Jewish symbols in jewelry form.

So now, not only am I continuing to be unapologetically proudly Jewish, but with one quick glance, this necklace announces it instantaneously.

Even before the person I’ll be interacting with knows my give-away Jewish name.

© IJN 2026