Rachel Moon is a beauty and fashion influencer and a pro-Israel activist with over 100,000 followers. She lives in the suburbs of Washington D.C.  

My mom is Jewish. My dad wasn’t, but he adopted everything — every tradition, every holiday. He even led our Seders. My Jewish identity has been important to me for as long as I can remember. But before Birthright, I didn’t know much about Israel. I never even thought about visiting. I just knew, because of my mom, that it was important. That it’s our homeland. 

But I didn’t have a personal connection. Not yet. 

I was just finishing my freshman year of college, unsure of what to do next. I had a job at a law firm, but I didn’t have a clear direction. One day, my mom saw an ad — maybe in a magazine, we can’t remember exactly — and said, “What do you think about going on this trip?” And I said, “Okay.” That was it. 

It turns out, my Birthright Israel trip was one of the very first ones. I didn’t know anyone going. A lot of participants were from Maryland, and many were from the University of Maryland. My trip was led by an Orthodox group, which I’d never experienced before — every part of it was new. 

I had zero expectations. I thought it would just be a fun trip. My family always says, “Rachel loves fun — if it sounds fun, she’s in.” So that’s all I was expecting: fun. 

But from the moment I landed in Israel, I was completely swept up in it. I didn’t call home for five days because I was so immersed in the experience. My mom was mad — but I just couldn’t pull away. I felt an instant connection to the land, to the people, to the energy of it all. I didn’t want to leave. 

People always ask me what I love most about Israel. Of course, it’s beautiful and spiritual and meaningful — but for me, it’s the people. The people are incredible. I even formed this unexpected bond with the rabbis on my trip, which I never could’ve predicted. We shared Shabbat dinners, had deep conversations, and I really began to understand what life in Israel is like — and what our shared Jewish roots actually mean. 

It made me realize that no matter how far apart we live, Jews around the world come from the same place. We have this unspoken bond that ties us together. And there’s really no way to describe that kind of feeling except to say: it’s love. It’s joy. It’s peace. I always tell people — I feel the most at peace when I’m in Israel. And when people ask if I’m afraid to go there, I say no. I can breathe in Israel. 

When I came home from that trip, being Jewish became even more central to my life. My family started calling me “Rachel the Jew” — and I leaned into it. Israel became one of my favorite places on Earth. I started thinking constantly about how I could go back. And last May, more than 20 years later, I finally did. It was emotional. It felt like I was going home. 

Birthright Israel gave me a deeper connection to who I am as a Jewish woman. It gave me purpose. The values I grew up with — family, faith, community — they clicked into place in a new way. It wasn’t just tradition anymore. It was identity. 

I’ve passed those values on to my own kids. My daughter is heading to college soon, and I told her, “If you’re not sure what you want to do, go on Birthright. And if you fall in love with Israel and want to stay — stay.” 

After October 7, like so many of us, I was devastated. But I didn’t take time to process — I just acted. I started using my social media to share what was happening. Most of my followers at the time weren’t Jewish, and they were learning everything from me. I didn’t pause to think about whether I should speak up. I just did. Because that could’ve been any of us. That was our family. 

I’ve faced backlash, yes. But I also found my calling. I’d actually been feeling, for years, like I was supposed to be doing something more with my platform. Fashion and beauty are fun, but I knew I had a deeper purpose — I just didn’t know what it was. Now I do. 

Since October 7, my platform has completely shifted. I think it’s about 60% Jewish followers now, and the rest are non-Jewish — but engaged and curious. I get messages all the time from people saying they’re taking their kids to Holocaust museums, or learning about Israel for the first time. Every time I get a message like that, I think: this is why I do it. 

And I wouldn’t be doing any of it if it weren’t for my Birthright trip. That trip lit the spark that changed my life. 

So, when people tell me they’re unsure about going on Birthright — or they’re waiting for the “right time” — I tell them: don’t wait. There will always be something happening in Israel. If you wait for things to feel “safe,” you’ll never go. When I went, there had just been bus bombings. We couldn’t even go to Tel Aviv. But I felt safe. Safer than I do walking into a mall in America with no security in sight. That feeling of safety, of connection, of belonging — it’s real. 

And if you’re someone thinking about supporting Birthright Israel — if you’ve ever wondered whether it’s worth donating to — I want you to look at me. I wouldn’t be doing what I do now if it weren’t for my Birthright trip. Investing in Birthright is investing in the future of the Jewish people. You’re not just funding a free trip. You’re giving someone the experience that could shape their entire life — and the lives they’ll go on to influence. 

Birthright changed everything for me. And I’ll always be grateful.