After graduating with a degree in political science and working as a chiropractor with her father in Boston, New Yorker Leora Leeder decided to make aliyah in 1997, during her mid-20s. She was drawn by a deep connection to Israel and a desire to serve in the army – in her profession.
But despite her efforts, she was rejected from the IDF, purely because she was a woman.
“They told me I’m a woman and not strong enough,” she recalls.
When she explained that she wasn’t aiming for a combat role but simply wanted to contribute her skills as a chiropractor, she was given another excuse: money.
“They said they didn’t have money because I had three degrees, so I would need a high security clearance. I was disappointed because I knew that one day I wanted to have kids, and if they asked me, ‘What did you do in the army?’ I wanted to have a good answer.”
Carving her own path
Having been rejected by the army, Leeder opened her own private practice in Jerusalem, which she has run for 28 years. Although adjusting to the culture in Israel took time, she enjoys her work. Many of her patients have been with her since she moved to Israel, allowing her to witness generations grow, which has been incredibly rewarding.
“Babies I once treated are now in the army or married. Watching families grow is an incredible thing.”
She has also served on the Israel Chiropractic Society Executive Board for 14 years.
Her dedication to her profession even extends to former presidents. Once, she saw a photograph of former president Ezer Weizman greeting a diplomat and noticed his poor posture. Leeder wrote to the President’s Office, expressing her concern and offering to treat him. While the office politely declined, they acknowledged her letter and thanked her for reaching out.
During the war, however, Leeder found her own way to serve, volunteering her services to soldiers for free. She was happy to do it, she reflected, because it was important for her to contribute to the cause, especially for soldiers who had been in Gaza for long stretches of time.
“I felt like they were doing a service for us, and I wanted to do a service for them; it was my version of army service.”
But it was important for her to serve through her profession.
“I didn’t see myself doing tironut [basic training] with 18-year-olds. I wanted to serve in the army using my own specialized skills. These soldiers need it. The physical stress of all the equipment they carry, the emotional stress of the things they’ve seen. They need the treatment, and I would’ve been very happy to go to Tel Hashomer four to five days a week and treat soldiers.”
Yet the army often overlooks volunteers like her, and there are many men and women in allied health fields who do it for free, but are not acknowledged.
“I have colleagues who take a portable table and go down to the South and volunteer with soldiers. I still wish that the army would acknowledge that this is something that the soldiers need and really could help them on a regular basis, not just when we’re at war.”
Politics or medicine?
Although she ultimately pursued medicine, politics was Leeder’s first love. She studied political science at Columbia University, interned at the Knesset during her junior year abroad at Hebrew University, and wrote her thesis on the rise of religious parties in Israel.
“The idea was to go into politics and make the world a better place.”
After working at the UN, she realized she didn’t have the soul to be a politician. Still, she realized she could make a difference in other ways. Coming from a family of doctors, she returned to school, completed her pre-med requirements, and pursued chiropractic work.
“If I can’t save the world, [instead] I can help people one person at a time.”
But Leeder remains politically involved and is active with the English-speaking group of Yair Lapid’s Yesh Atid.
Balancing life, work, and family
Leeder strives for balance beyond her work. She runs, practices photography, and volunteers helping street cats – activities that bring her fulfillment outside the clinic. At home, she is also a devoted cat owner. Her first cat, Harry, was with her for 19 years and passed away on Passover at the start of the COVID pandemic. Just two weeks later, she rescued Fleurken, who has been her companion ever since.
Personal milestones have also shaped her journey. At 36, a broken engagement prompted her to reflect on what she truly wanted. She explored becoming a single mother by choice (SMC), not wanting to live with regret. At 39, she began fertility treatments and gave birth to her daughter Raphaela a year later. Now 16 and in Grade 11, Raphaela is preparing to serve in the IDF in two years. She hopes to serve in the Oketz Unit, pursuing her passion for animals and dreams of becoming a vet.
“She came home one day and said, ‘Mommy, animals are our friends, right? We don’t eat our friends.’ Since Grade 1, she has been a vegetarian,” Leeder says.
Although she is an SMC, Leeder does not rule out finding the right partner and is open to dating.
Turning points
Leeder describes her aliyah as a turning point.
“There are certain moments in your life where you make a choice, and everything clicks into place: the first time I picked up a camera, when I decided to have my daughter, and the third was my decision to make aliyah.”
Her Zionist roots run deep, and she grew up in a very Zionist family: her grandmother was born in Jerusalem in 1922, her great-grandfather was friends with US president Harry Truman and helped influence the recognition of Israel in the United Nations, and one uncle served as prime minister David Ben-Gurion’s personal guard.
“Whenever the family got together, Israel was always part of the conversation,” she says.
Also at Columbia University, she recalls sitting with her friends in the kosher kitchen and talking about Israel. They were all Zionists, loved Israel, and decided they were going to make aliyah together and “save Israel from itself.”
However, it was her year at Hebrew University that really solidified her connection to Israel and cemented her decision to make aliyah, making it a defining moment in her life.
Growing up, Leeder had spent a lot of time with her grandparents in Boston, where July 4 was a big deal. But for her, it was attending a ceremony at Mount Herzl one day during her junior year that changed everything.
“There were fireworks and singing, and I remember thinking – this is what I want. America is important to me. I grew up there, but this is what I want. It just felt right. If I was going to fulfill my potential as a human being, I needed to do it here.”
Challenges of living in Israel as an ‘olah’
Leaving family behind has been one of the biggest challenges, says Leeder. When she made aliyah, she was alone for 18 years until one of her brothers also made aliyah to Jerusalem. Leeder grew up surrounded by cousins and grandparents, but she and her daughter do not have that same support system in Israel.
She just visited New York for a few days. Most of her family remains in the US.
“I feel sad for my daughter that she doesn’t get to know her cousins,” she says.
People often talk about seeing their families, especially on holidays, which are very family-oriented, and she misses that connection.
Even so, and even though she loved visiting New York, she could never go back and live there, she said. While she was there, she recalled that she wanted to do something for the hostages but was advised by family and friends not to be outwardly Jewish or Israeli.
“That really hurt me, the idea that this was the city where I was born and where I grew up until I was in my 20s but I couldn’t be myself.”
Now, she feels more Israeli than American, and her value system is more Israeli too.
“I feel like an Israeli, think like an Israeli, and I even forget words in English sometimes.”
She also feels safer here, despite the threats.
“Here, we know who’s trying to kill us. I don’t know if this is a good thing, but on a mental or emotional level, if we’re not constantly being traumatized by it anymore, I think that’s a good thing. Do I want to live that way? Absolutely not. Would I rather live with the idea that people don’t want to kill us every day? Sure. But that’s not the reality right now, and that’s okay. It doesn’t get in the way.”
Despite the challenges of living in Israel, Leeder is happy here and wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. Over time, she has also embraced the idea that there’s not much we can control and has learned to go with the flow.
“This is one of the great gifts that Israel gave me. It helped me let go of that obsessive need to control and anticipate everything.”
From her New York roots to life in Israel, she has built a path shaped by her work, her family, and her values. Her journey reflects determination, adaptability, and dedication.
“In America, I was successful, but I wasn’t happy. From any outer perspective, I was doing great when I was living in New York. Since coming to Israel, I’ve embraced the idea that there’s not much that we can control. I’m much less judgmental now, and I go with the flow – and I’m happier. This is not to say that on a daily basis, life is always easy, especially as a single parent – but I’m happier.”