I hate Swedish November. Yesterday I visited Höganäs, a small town where I spent some of my boyhood. The weather says it all. November in Sweden is awful.

It’s Friday afternoon.

I’m having a coffee before heading back to Europe. It’s that same thought every time—why am I leaving Israel for a life surrounded by ignorance, anti-Semitism, and pro-Palestinian thugs who see themselves as experts on Israel’s alleged evil.

Tel Aviv is the one place in the world where I can be openly gay and Jewish without compromising on either.