Jewish grief deserves empathy, not silence
For many Jews, especially those living outside Israel, the trauma has not ended with the events themselves.
Jewish communities around the world have been reeling from the horror of the Hamas-led attacks since October 7, 2023, on Israel. But for many Jews, especially those living outside Israel, the trauma has not ended with the events themselves. It has been made worse by something quieter but deeply painful: the way their grief has been dismissed, downplayed or ignored.
This response has a name. Trauma invalidation. It happens when someone’s pain is denied, minimised or treated as if it doesn’t matter. It’s not just disagreement. It’s being told that your emotions don’t count or that your experience isn’t real. A recent article by trauma therapists Dr Miri Bar-Halpern (Harvard University) and Jaclyn Wolfman, published in the Journal of Human Behaviour in the Social Environment, helps name this experience. It describes what happens when trauma is not denied outright but twisted, politicised or met with silence.
Since October 7, many Jewish people have experienced this. Some are told that the attacks were “complicated” rather than horrific. Others are asked to condemn Israel’s response before their own fear and heartbreak are even acknowledged. Some are left in the silence of friends, workplaces and institutions that speak out loudly for others, but fall quiet when Jews are in pain.
Bar-Halpern and Wolfman describe nine forms of trauma invalidation, including emotional neglect, blame, denial of reality and social exclusion. These are not just individual moments; they add up. They leave people not only hurt by global events, but also feeling abandoned by those they once trusted.
Trauma doesn’t just come from what happens to us. It also comes from how others respond. When someone meets our pain with care, we begin to heal. When they meet it with silence or scepticism, we feel even more alone.
That is why the invalidation many Jews have felt since October 7 cuts so deeply. It strikes at the heart of belonging. And it often comes not from strangers, but from people who claim to care – colleagues, peers, therapists, educators.
Young people are especially vulnerable. Reports of Jewish students being told to stay quiet, hide their identity or accept double standards at school and university are not just political concerns. They are emotional wounds. They shape how our children grow up in this world.
In my work as a psychologist and in my own life, I’ve seen the ripple effects of this kind of trauma since October 7. I’ve noticed themes of lost friendships, anxiety at work or being told not to “make things political” when they try to talk about their grief.
In response to these growing needs, I was invited by Jewish House, a Sydney-based crisis support organisation, to help co-develop a national Lifeline training resource. The goal was simple but urgent: to give crisis counsellors the tools to support Jewish callers with compassion and cultural understanding in the wake of October 7. It is a step toward the kind of empathy all trauma survivors deserve.
Healing begins with being heard. Not judged. Not corrected. Not ignored. Jewish grief deserves space. It does not need to be justified to be acknowledged.
The work by Bar-Halpern and Wolfman is more than academic. It is a reminder to all of us – mental health professionals, teachers, leaders and community members – to name what is happening. To create spaces where Jewish pain is not pushed aside, but received with honesty and care.
As a community that truly supports each other, we must face the cost of silence and remember how much strength it takes to simply say: I see your pain. I believe you. You are not alone.
Atara Kaye is a registered psychologist based in Sydney and the founder of Purple Rain Psychology. She works with adults in Sydney’s eastern suburbs, supporting clients with grief and loss, antisemitism, anxiety, depression, eating disorders, and other mental health challenges.