From Crucifix to Kippah: My Journey of Faith and Identity

By Frank Marchese

For as long as I can remember, I wore a crucifix around my neck. I received it at my Confirmation — a gift that symbolized faith, belonging, and everything I was raised to believe in. It became a part of me — something I rarely took off, even when I wasn’t sure what I believed anymore. That small piece of metal wasn’t just jewelry; it represented my upbringing, my family’s expectations, and a version of myself that tried so hard to fit in.

But over time, that crucifix began to feel heavier. Not physically — but spiritually and emotionally. As I grew older and began to wrestle with questions about faith, identity, and truth, I realized that the crucifix I once wore with pride had become a reminder of the life I was trying to leave behind — a life where I felt like I had to hide who I really was.

Removing it wasn’t a spontaneous act. It took years of internal conflict, moments of guilt, and nights of reflection. When I finally unclasped it from my neck, I wasn’t just taking off a symbol — I was shedding years of pain, fear, and silence. It was the moment I stopped pretending and started embracing who I truly am.

And today, I wear a kippah.

That small piece of fabric, light as air, carries more meaning than I could have ever imagined. It reminds me that my faith is no longer rooted in fear or expectation, but in truth and purpose. When I put it on each morning, I feel grounded. Seen. Connected — not only to my Creator but to generations of Jews who came before me.

At first, I was hesitant to wear it publicly. Part of me worried what others might think or say — especially at work. Unfortunately, those fears weren’t unfounded. I faced moments of discrimination and uncomfortable questions. There were times I felt singled out or judged simply for being who I am. But instead of hiding again, I chose to stand firm. I fought for my right to practice my religion and to be respected for it.

That experience changed me. It reminded me that faith isn’t just about what we believe in — it’s about how we live it, even when it’s hard. Each time I chose to keep my kippah on, I was choosing courage over comfort, authenticity over fear, and pride over shame.

The crucifix I wore was about conformity. The kippah I wear now is about authenticity.

It’s more than a symbol of religion — it’s a declaration of who I’ve become. It tells the world that I’m proud of my Jewish identity, proud of the man I’ve become, and grateful for the path that led me here.

This journey wasn’t about rejecting my past — it was about finding where my soul truly belonged. Every scar, every question, every painful moment brought me to this place of peace. And now, as I look in the mirror and see my kippah reflected back, I don’t just see a new faith. I see freedom.

Because for the first time in my life, what’s around my neck — or on my head — finally matches what’s in my heart.