‘I Risked My Career’ to Speak Out for Israel, Says Canadian Model

Jerusalem, 12 November, 2025 (TPS-IL) — When Canadian-Slovakian model Miriam Mattova began posting in support of Israel after Hamas’ October 7 attacks, she lost many Instagram followers and one of her P.R. agencies dropped her, warning she was being “too political.”

“They told me to delete the hashtags and stay neutral,” the 33-year-old told The Press Service of Israel in Jerusalem during her first visit to Israel. “But my grandmother told me that during the Holocaust, everyone stayed quiet. I promised myself I would never be quiet.”

“My Instagram profile changed. I added the ‘bring them home’ hashtag and posted more about Judaism and what’s happening. I wanted to inform the world about Israel’s right to defend itself. I risked my career, and it paid off—I found an agency that shares my values.”

Her commitment brought her to southern Israel this month with the nonprofit Israel Friends, where she visited the site of the Nova Music Festival massacre. Miriam spent three hours there, crying as she walked among burned cars and memorial photos. But what moved her most wasn’t the devastation—it was the soldiers thanking her for coming.

“They thanked me for two minutes of my time while risking their lives daily. They are the heroes; I am just a voice advocating for them. They came back from war and were still happy, cheering me on. It showed me how strong the Jewish people are today,” Miriam said.

At Nova and nearby kibbutzim, she felt echoes of her own family’s history. Her grandmother and great-grandmother survived the Holocaust; the rest did not.

“When I saw what happened here, I heard my grandmother’s story all over again—in the 21st century,” she said quietly. “It’s so painful. These were young people dancing, people sleeping in their homes. They didn’t hurt anyone. And yet they were slaughtered.”

Before October 7, Miriam was building a successful modeling career, traveling the world and earning accolades, including Miss Slovakia and Miss Universe Bikini 2013. Now living in Toronto, she says antisemitism followed her to Canada.

“There are anti-Israel protests on my street every Friday,” she said. “I wear my Star of David and my Nova Festival T-shirt proudly. I’m not scared. That’s what they want—to intimidate us. If we show fear, they win.”

Just days before her trip, a man shouted “dirty Jews” at her in a Toronto bar. “If I had shown fear, he would have felt powerful. So I laughed. You can’t let hate control you.”

Mental Health: ‘It’s Not Political’

Miriam’s first visit to the Holy Land is with Israel Friends, a nonprofit that has delivered over $55 million in aid for civilian security teams and support for Israelis suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

Her advocacy focuses on helping soldiers cope with PTSD, especially young adults returning from combat. “For me, PTSD work is the most meaningful part. It’s not political—it’s about healing. These soldiers are 18, 19, 20 years old. They’ve seen things no one should ever see. We can’t just leave them to face that alone.”

In two years of war, more than 3,700 soldiers have been diagnosed with PTSD, while another 9,000 have applied for recognition. Each full treatment program costs about $1,200 and dramatically shortens the wait for therapy—from months to days.

“If one person heals, their whole family heals. It’s a domino effect,” she said. Israel Friends has provided over 40,000 hours of therapy through its Healthy Mind teletherapy program, Matanya Farm, and mental health retreats. Matanya Farm, a therapeutic center in northern Israel, has treated more than 5,500 survivors since May 2024. In October 2025, it received Defense Ministry approval to treat soldiers.

“These are 18- to 21-year-olds who’ve faced unimaginable trauma. Even one person getting help benefits the whole family,” Miriam said. She stresses her work is neutral and non-political. “I’m supporting healthcare and mental health. Everyone deserves access, and Israel Friends gets help to soldiers within days rather than months—that’s life-changing.”

Miriam sees her advocacy as both a moral obligation and personal mission. Having faced isolation and bullying as a Jewish child, she empathizes with soldiers’ struggles to reintegrate. “I understand, to a smaller extent, what it’s like to feel different or vulnerable. I can help them feel seen and supported.”

Alongside modeling, Miriam pursued rigorous academics, earning a PhD in political science. At 14, she was offered a seven-year modeling contract, but her mother insisted she finish school first. She could travel internationally only after turning 17—and only if her grades stayed high.

Miriam credits her father—a chemist and pharmacist—for inspiring her academic focus. “For Jewish families, education is everything. People wonder why Jews are so successful—it’s because our parents teach us the value of learning.”

Recalling her parents’ restrictions, she said, “At first, I wasn’t happy, but now I’m grateful. Education gave me discipline, purpose, and the ability to use my voice responsibly.”

Her modeling career, long solitary, now carries deeper purpose. “People pay attention to you because of how you look,” she said, “and finally I can use that to do something good.” She has made intentional choices—working with Jewish photographers, Israeli designers like Ronnie Kobo, and supporting local talent while keeping Jewish culture visible.

“Modeling used to be just about money and magazine covers,” she said. “Now it has meaning. I can talk about what matters—about Israel, about our people, about truth.”