I'll Do What I Want If I Choose

Don't tell me what to do. I don't know you; you don't know me. When is it ever okay to tell a stranger what to do?

Simchas Torah night we thought we had it all planned out. Armed with a positive mindset (even minus any alcohol), a group of us decided to make our way into the fray of marrieds and their children dancing away the night.

I was all about realizing that I might be without a husband and/or children to support and encourage in the ways of Torah, as of yet, but being single doesn't define me. And, this holiday isn't about me. It's about Torah, and we each have our own way of being koneh it.

Being single, in fact, gave/gives me a chance for self discovery –– a self awareness that may have otherwise gotten swallowed in a relationship and/or family life. All those people that look at us and feel sorry for us, I pity them. They likely didn't get a chance to develop their individuality. It isn't a contest, but I'm definitely not any worse off because my path is different than theirs, that my journey deviates from their norm.

I digress.

In one shul we visited, the matzav was shvach, and it was all about the social scene. We had more exciting venues on our agenda, and so, after a few minutes, I sought out one friend who was stuck talking to a neighborhood woman. I know this woman didn't know who I was, because seconds before she had asked me my name. For context's sake, her daughter, now married with a handful of kids, was in my high school class. Either way, I turned to my friend and said, "Where's so-and-so and so-and-so? We should go."

The woman looks at me, tsk-tsk's ever so softly, and says, while shaking her head condescendingly, "You don't have to leave."

I'm sorry, why are you telling me what to do?

Admittedly, I don't really know what she meant and what she was thinking when she said that. I am sure that I'm probably making a big deal about nothing, but I honestly am still puzzled why she felt like she should say anything at all. Perhaps it's the cynic in me that just assumes that she felt sorry for us, a group of wandering single girls, no base to tether us. She was welcoming us into her warm arms, her shul, her home base.

That's sweet, but not all those who wander are lost.

Please don't tell me what to do, and don't assume I need your pity.