I've waited 15 years for this.It took 15 years for my immersion in a mikvah to be a neutral experience. Not traumatic. Not painful. Neutral. From the very first time immersing in a mikvah, a few days before my wedding, I was on my own. Searching in the dark, in unfamiliar territory.

There is a moment in the day that belongs neither to daylight nor to night. The sun has already slipped behind the mountains, the sky glows first orange, then crimson, and finally deep blue, while the stars are still reluctant to appear. It is a suspended moment - delicate, elusive, impossible to grasp. The Sages call it ben hashemashot, literally "between the suns": the interval stretching from sunset, shkiyah, until the appearance of the stars, tzeit hakochavim.

Pesach is a time of deep meaning, filled with ritual, family, and the retelling of our journey from Mitzrayim to Geula. But for many women, the rhythm of the holiday can intersect with another important rhythm, the mitzvah of tevillah. When mikveh night falls on or around the seder, it can raise both practical and emotional questions.

When the war broke out over Shabbat, I wasn’t sure how we would even be able to open the mikvaot. Although it wasn’t technically my problem to solve, it weighed heavily on my mind. Somehow, I knew we would find a way. It just meant opening during our shifts and working around the sirens ensuring each mikvah had a safe room.

What happens when mikveh night collides with drinking, seuda, and Purim revelry? Can you go to the mikveh after drinking? What if one spouse is intoxicated and not aware of boundaries when in niddah?

Taharat hamishpacha and mikveh are often spoken about in the language of closeness, renewal, and anticipation. When you are going through challenges in your marriage (and/or considering divorce), those same practices can feel heavy, confusing, lonely, or even painful. The halachot themselves do not change, but the emotional landscape around them absolutely does.