As a rabbi who is married to a man who converted to Judaism, I binge watched the Netflix series Nobody Wants This with a mixture of amusement and frustration.

The show, about a young rabbi and non-Jewish podcaster who fall in love, has sparked all kinds of conversation and debate. I feel a personal connection to this story, both because of my husband and because I have worked with and welcomed many converts into the Jewish people and my congregations over the past 16 years of being a rabbi.

Yes, my husband, Jeff, converted before we met, but he had been married to his late wife, Karen, for many years before choosing Judaism for himself. As a non-Jew, he was a wonderfully supportive member of a Jewish family—celebrating Jewish holidays, going to synagogue on Shabbat and learning to cook Jewish food. His wife and son were very happy with the arrangement. 

But Jeff had a lightbulb moment as he schlepped his son to and from Hebrew school, and thought: “Well, if Ethan is learning Hebrew, I guess I should, too.” That brave step into elementary Hebraic learning led to a lifelong commitment to Judaism—the religion, the people and the traditions. And eventually, years later, it led him to fall in love again and marry a rabbi.

Truth be told, I believe converts are the future of Judaism. There. I said it. It may feel controversial, but it shouldn’t. Any rabbi who has worked with conversion students can tell you that Jews-by-choice come to Judaism with openness, with passion and with wonder—and with a yearning to embrace our rich culture and vibrant heritage. They show up to services on time, they sit on congregational boards, they continue to learn Jewish skills and they represent us well in the wider community.

Nobody Wants This is a fun show, but I’m concerned that the title and the portrayal of a Jewish family that includes some unkind and unwelcoming members— especially a sometimes negatively stereotypical Jewish mother—send a detrimental message. Yes, dating and intermarriage can be complicated, even in our modern world. But after non-Jews fall in love with Jews, many also come to fall in love with the profound traditions that we share with them—sometimes immediately and sometimes years later after helping to shape their Jewish households as non-Jewish spouses. When they do choose Judaism for themselves, the voices of these new Jews help our traditions to continue to evolve and thrive.

For me, the most realistic moment in season two of the series was when Joanne, the protagonist girlfriend of Rabbi Noah, a woman who doesn’t shy away from arguments, says, “A religion that encourages me to argue? Love that.” If there is one thing that most of my conversion students have had in common it is this: As children, somebody somewhere told them to stop asking so many questions, and they are thrilled to have found a new religion that is sustained by questions and debates.

My husband is a satellite engineer who began raising a Jewish son and fell in love with Judaism in the process. Like Joanne, Jeff loved the analysis and questioning, but he was also searching for deeper religious engagement in his life. Now, Jeff bakes challah every week while his rabbi-wife is writing sermons. He chants Torah on Shabbat morning, studies Talmud every day (daf yomi), shows up at shiva houses and DJs our shul dance parties.

He also just published his first children’s book—Shabbat on Mars—merging his knowledge of space with his love for Shabbat. In addition to all of this, he supports my hectic schedule as the rabbi of Rodef Shalom, a vibrant Conservative shul in Denver, Colo.,—offering me organizational prowess and deep respect. He wasn’t born into this. He didn’t drift into it. He chose it.

As the second season of Nobody Wants This closes, Joanne realizes that despite the difficult family dynamics, she has not simply fallen in love with Rabbi Noah—she has also, without realizing it, fallen in love with the sense of belonging and release she feels when she celebrates Shabbat. While this epiphany that comes during a conversation with Esther, Noah’s sister-in-law, has received understandable criticism for its stereotypical and superficial definition of what “feels Jewish,” there is beauty in Joanne’s realization that she has been anticipating Shabbat dinner each week without fully understanding its impact on her being. This is the lightbulb moment that Joanne needs in order to be able to see herself within Judaism—and Judaism within herself. This is the lightbulb, viewers assume, that she needs in order to explore the possibility of conversion.

I keep imagining what seasons three and four might look like as Joanne enters the conversion process and explores what it will really mean to decide to become Jewish. I imagine her steeped in Jewish learning and practice as she moves within the rhythms of the Jewish calendar — finding a home within the embrace of  Jewish community and beginning to discover her voice as a Jew and as the spouse of a rabbi.

There is no one way to live Jewishly or to be part of a rabbinic family, and I love imagining how Joanne might enter these next stages in her Jewish journey, bringing her new, unique voice to our ancient, ever-evolving  religion. In my community, that is a voice that everybody should want.

Rabbi Rachel Kobrin is the spiritual leader of Congregation Rodef Shalom in Denver.