On the anniversary of both my personal tragedy and the collective disaster of my country, one of the most painful feelings is that since that dark day, the situation has only deteriorated.

My leadership does not value my family’s lives. My life is nothing more than a pawn in the political chess game of my prime minister and his ministers.

They did not value my family’s life on October 6, 2023, four hours before the attack began when the warning signs started to show. They abandoned them to their fate against the cruelest and most despicable enemy for hours on October 7, 2023, and since then, they have continued this policy of abandonment.

They abandoned Itai, my cousin, for 98 days, during which he was alive in Hamas captivity until he was executed as a result of the IDF’s military operation nearby.

The Israeli government did not see value in Itai’s life, they didn’t save him when it was still possible. They drew no conclusions from his murder and did not save the lives of other hostages afterward.

A whole year has passed since the day I realized my life had changed forever. Everything I know, trusted and believed in for 27 years no longer exists, and now, a new and different life begins.

I grew up in a Zionist, Jewish, Israeli, socialist home. My grandparents were among the founders of the State of Israel and the Zionist community on the borders of Israel. They planted the flag at Israel’s borders — Be’eri on the border with Gaza and Manara on the border with Lebanon. They stood as gatekeepers of the state’s borders and believed with all their hearts that this was our place, and where we belong. They dedicated their lives to the growth of Israel, to make it a prosperous and secure state. These are the values I was raised on. I would give of myself to the country, go to the army, serve as an officer, and in return, the state would continue to provide me with protection. I believed my life and my family’s lives were safe here, I could never have imagined the scenario that unfolded.

Since October 2023, when we realized Itai was kidnapped, my life has been dedicated to bringing him back. It was clear to me that his murdered parents could not be returned, and our full attention needed to be on him. We said, shouted, cried out that his life was in immediate danger, that every day could be his last, that we had no time to waste, that he had to be rescued before he loses his life for any reason.

On January 14, the 100th day of his kidnapping, Hamas released a video informing us of his death. Our cries fell on deaf ears.

Since then, we have continued the fight to bring Itai’s body home for a proper and respectful burial alongside his parents, who were murdered in the attack, and for the sake of all the hostages whose lives can still be saved and brought back alive.

For a whole year, we — and all the hostage families — have been fighting and leading the most important and just struggle in the history of Israeli society.

This is a fight for the soul of our society. A fight for us to remain a society that values life more than revenge. A struggle for mutual responsibility and morality, a fight against the acceptance and normalization of the abnormal, a battle against the takeover of extreme messianic nationalism over the State of Israel.

Unfortunately, the Israeli government has managed to poison the public. It has succeeded in dividing, inciting, fostering hatred and labeling the fight for the return of the hostages as a political, dangerous, and illegitimate struggle, while the greatest and most significant danger is the government itself.

The Israeli public has an important role in shaping the future of society. The younger generation has the responsibility to repair the country and make it a safe place for their future families.

The first step will be the return of the hostages, which will be achieved through a negotiated deal that includes a broad regional agreement.

This past year, I have been fighting for my present and future family. For the chance to build a family and raise children here. I am fighting for the possibility that we can live in the country my grandparents built, in my homeland, so my future children will know my homeland and that it will be theirs too.

Until then, there is much work to be done and much destruction to repair.

This piece is part of a series of reflections from the J Street community. Read the rest of the reflections here.