Our love story, before we even knew it, started with a first kiss on a beach in Tel Aviv. That beach. That country. That people. That is where we began. Three years ago today, Israel was attacked. Men, women, children, babies — slaughtered, tortured, r@ped, taken hostage. It was the deadliest day for Jewish people since the Holocaust. I am a proudly queer, proudly Jewish, loudly Zionist mom. I have five children I am raising to know where they come from. I have a love story that began on Israeli soil. I have a people whose history is buried in that land, whose language was born there, whose prayers have faced Jerusalem for two thousand years. So when people who live on land shaped by their own country’s history of conquest and displacement tell me to “Free Palestine” — I have questions. About America and its Indigenous peoples. About Canada. About Australia. About Britain and its territories. About Russia and Ukraine. About every border on this earth that was drawn by war. Becau...