Being Single vs. Not Being Married

Not being married comes along with various different challenges, such as loneliness/the feeling of lacking close connection with a special someone, feeling stuck, not fitting in/belonging, etc. However, "being single" I almost want to say is a culture or lifestyle, it's so much bigger than just not being married. There are so many ways in which it interrupts your life that it almost becomes your way of life. It's about making "shidduchim" a priority, so you can never really plan other things.

Take this past weekend for instance. I was invited to attend a dating event, and I decided to go for whatever reasons. Jellybeans and all that. The catch is that this event was taking place a few hours away traveling distance. To make it worth the trip, I made plans to do other fun activities with friends while I was there. Friday morning, the event coordinator messaged me saying that in the end she's moving the event to another day. I couldn't back out on my friends, plus I spent about $100 on a show ticket, so I pretty much had to keep to the schedule. Meanwhile, the shadchan in charge of the event felt bad that she hadn't given me more advanced notice, and she decided she was going to "make it up to me." She set me up with a guy that could tell probably wasn't going to be for me. Long story short, I got convinced into going out with him "just for coffee." My friend I was traveling back with had a date, and he could only get to her around 8:00 or 8:30 pm. As not to get frustrated that we were going to leave to go home so late (with work looming bright and early Monday morning), I decided I mind as well go out with the guy-that-I-was-pretty-sure-wasn't-for-me. It was a total bomb, as predicted, and in the end my friend's date cancelled on her. (That's a whole other story of dysfunction.) We could have left much much earlier to get home. Honestly, what sort of comedy of errors would ever occur like this in a married person's life?

There is so much that comes along with being single; it isn't just the not having a spouse, a family, aspect. There's a stigma against anyone that hasn't followed the conveyor belt Judaism path –– people trying to make sense of what this means, should they pity the older single, is there something wrong with him/her, etc. There's the not fitting in in frum society element. There's the always having to make shidduchim a priority at the detriment to the rest of your life (because isn't getting married a priority!?). I'm sure there are so many others, too, that I haven't outlined.

I guess every challenge has its side effects that compound the struggle. Being single is by no means the hardest affliction out there (pain is relative and you cannot measure or compare it), but it seems like it sure interrupts life.

Things Not To Do on a First Date

There are certain things that are no-no's on a first date no matter how you cut it. While this linked post covers the mostly non-intuitive ones, here I've outline the ones everyone should know instinctively (but it's nice to get a refresher every once in awhile apparently).

Don't be a backseat driver! It can be hard to navigate as it is, especially while trying to maintain a conversation with someone you met seconds before. Someone telling you where to go, advising you when to merge/slow down/etc. is unpleasant and annoying. If his driving makes you nervous, just pay attention to what's going on in the car or make an effort to enjoy the scenery and ignore his driving as much as possible.

Don't ask a girl to go dutch. It's accepted for the guy to foot the bill. If you can't afford her dinner, don't take her out to eat. As the fellow, generally you decide what happens on the date. If you don't want spend that much money, pick a cheaper activity.

Don't talk about other guys/girls you've dated. This one requires thought and common sense. It isn't necessarily a topic to be avoided at all costs. Your date knows that you've dated other people, just don't make it your main point. If a story or point comes up in conversation, it's okay to mention. You just want to stay away from telling long stories or making other guys/girls your focus. Talking about other people you dated on a first date can be disrespectful, and/or it reflects that you may still be emotionally attached to an ex or have a lot of baggage. Not a good topic for a first date!

Don't eat with your hands or pick your nose. Duh. Table manners. Personal hygiene. Respect for yourself and the person you're with. Okay, so there are certain foods that are finger foods, and those are exempt. It's not okay to eat a cookie with a fork. You're fine to eat fries with your fingers. I'm not sure about sushi. Master proper chopsticks usage or don't order sushi on a first date?

Don't ask personal questions. If it's a first date and the first time you're meeting someone, it's not okay to ask about his/her broken engagement, family scandal, or deceased family member. It's insensitive and bad manners. I'm sure it's an important conversation, but wait until you get to know him/her first. Building rapport and trust is essential in every type of relationship.

Don't spend the whole date talking about yourself. As in any conversation, dating should be equal give and take. Be interested in your date and ask him/her questions about himself/herself as well as provide answers to his/her questions. No one wants to hear you promote yourself for an extended period of time. Natural back and forth. If your date isn't saying very much, maybe it's because you're not engaging him/her or not letting him/her talk. Try asking him/her a question and/or shutting your mouth long enough for him/her to speak.

Don't make fun of yourself or put yourself down. It's a first date; the person doesn't know you from Adam/Jane. Whatever you say about yourself sticks. Well-placed humor is great, but be careful with self depreciation before someone knows you. S/he has no context to understand the joke. It can come across like you think badly of yourself, and s/he may jump on that bandwagon.

Don't answer a call/text/email. It's rude and insulting. It means that whoever is on my phone is more important than you. If you need to take out your phone for a specific purpose, that's fine. Don't take it out because you're bored; if you're at that point, go take a break and reorient yourself, or just take her/ask to go home.

Shidduch Reid: The Talk Demystified Part One

Sometimes the terms we use, while to those "in the parsha" (see below), they make perfect sense, they cause others to scratch their heads trying to understand their meaning. This is by no means an exhaustive list, but a small compilation.

"In the parsha/on the market" –– This is someone on a (sometimes exhausting) journey to find their soulmate using the shidduch system.

"The system" –– This refers to the formalized process of finding one's spouse through a set of designated protocol generally used by Orthodox young men and woman.

"Shidduch resume or profile" –– This not to be confused with a Tinder or Bumble profile. It is a brief written summary of a guy or girl navigating the shidduch market given to potential suitors to help them in assessing one's relevance. Its form and content may vary.

"The shidduch crisis" –– This "crisis" is the panic people feel thinking about how "the system" might fail them, and they'll be still single at age 22. Some people attribute the failings of the system to the age gap or education gap between eligible fellows and ladies in the parsha.

"Redt" –– This popular verbiage means suggesting a shidduch idea (a guy or gal's name as a potential match) to a party.

"Looking into/do research" –– Refers to the arduous process of finding out information, relevant and non-relevant, about a potential match. May include calling friends, teachers, relatives, or even employers. Fingerprinting, background checks, and even Apgar scores are fair game to help determine eligibility.

"Gave a yes" –– After the investigation is completed and relevance is determined, this means someone has agreed to go out with the potential suitor.

"Got a yes" –– This means someone has agreed to go out with you.

"In the freezer" –– This refers to a guy who is currently not yet actively on the market because his yeshiva does not allow him to date until he has learned by them for a set amount of time. He may, however, have a long list of suitors waiting for him to complete his sentence.

"Long/short term learner"  –– A long-term learner means the bachur is sitting and learning in yeshiva without a predetermined end date. In most cases this means his wife or wife's family (or his own) will support him financially for an undetermined amount of time. A short-term learner means the bachur does not plan on staying in learning long-term. He may or may not "have a plan."

"Someone with a plan" –– This refers to someone (generally a guy) who will take responsibility for parnossa. Perhaps he has less emuna than the "learner," and believes he must get his hands dirty to support his family.

To be continued...

Sit Still, Look Pretty

Second date, dressed like it was a second date, and the venue he took us to was packed. Trying to salvage the date, he suggested we relocate to a different locale nearby. The problem was that he proposed we go do an activity that isn't really possible in formalwear. I'm guessing that he was clueless to this, as sure, it might be a little uncomfy in dress pants and a dress shirt, but it's sort of impossible in the female version of second date attire. I subtly vetoed the idea without pointing out the gaps in this thinking by complimenting his first choice and suggested we stick around for a little while until it clears out a bit, which it did, in a fairly short amount of time. Win win.

What about when he keeps making the same wrong turn over and over and over again? (Waze is really patient!) Or he's clearly going to miss the exit or doesn't know the way but hasn't asked for directions and is just winging it? What if the date destination he suggests will lend itself to a bad evening? When is it okay to say something? Is it ever?

Because you don't know each other, and it isn't a normal relationship, everything you do gets judged and blown up. There's so little context to understand someone in the beginning of a relationship. Because there are certain expectations within shidduch dating, it's hard to say what is okay.  He initiates the process (ideas are usually redt to the guy first), he arranges, he drives, he pays, etc. What happens if she has something to say about it? Where's that line before she's labelled "pushy" or "overbearing?" What if it's about communication and mutual give and take? Sometimes I feel like this system assumes that all guys are looking for trophy-wife-eye-candy-yes-girls.

Dressing For a Date

A week or two after I ended things with the first guy I dated for a long time (ie. my first "serious relationship," not my "first guy"), I was so done with protocol. I was basically a rebound waiting to happen. What did I know from rebounds back then? Either way, I think the next up appreciated this, because he had been dating for awhile and a "serial dater" on top of that. He was ready to break the rules and have a good time doing it. Because we had a conversation about what formalities do and do not mean during our first date, he showed up to our second date with wet hair, one too many shirt buttons undone, and shoes that I can only describe as clogs. I'm not sure if he was trying to make a statement, make fun of me, or simply just got carried away.

What is appropriate attire for a date? Should you "dress up?"

Put it this way, no one is the authority on "what to wear" on a date. (In some circles you're "supposed to" wear hat/suit/tie on a first, and sometimes consecutive date/s, and others scoff at that idea.) The barometer is "what message am I trying to send?" Do you dress up for a job interview? Why would you not want to put your best foot forward on first/second date? Do you respect the person you're meeting to put yourself together? Do you respect yourself?

What sort of date are you going on? If you've arranged an informal coffee date or the like, you obviously don't want to show up in black tie formal wear. If you're doing an activity and it's a beginning date, you can get away with business/dressy casual. (A guy can always take off his tie and jacket. As a girl, keep in mind, "You can never be overdressed or overeducated." I believe that's Oscar Wilde.) In the frum world we have some further clothing delineations (at least for girls, it's a lot less complicated for a guy). Wedding attire, fancy Yuntif/Shabbos, casual Shabbos, Chol HaMoed wear, nice weekday garb, sporty apparel, etc. Just be practical. Do you really want to be traipsing around in high heels? Heels work for a lounge/dinner date but get in the way during most activities. As do black hats. (Unless you wear your hat everywhere, so that'd be indicative of a hashkafa I guess.)

I'm not sure why this isn't intuitive, but it's never okay to wear a shirt with a fraying collar/sleeves, badly scuffed shoes, a pilling sweater, severely creased clothing, anything with a hole, a stained tie, and the like. There is a difference between dressing casually and being put together and casual and "I can't be bothered." You don't want to look like you don't care how you look/how you represent yourself and/or that you don't notice what you're wearing. Your outward appearance is the first thing people judge you on, whether you like it or not. Hopefully it's not the only thing being judged or carry too much weight, but you can definitely lose or pick up some points here.

I think how you dress is about respecting yourself and this process. We're not just hanging out after school and going for ice cream. Putting yourself together means you put thought into getting ready for the date and put forth effort into the shidduch.

Can You Relate?

"Because our relationship with Hashem is understood via the various relationships we have in this world, do we have a different responsibility in our relationship with G-d as a someone who isn't married yet?" 

Thus was the question that was posed in a Shir HaShirim class that I attend. Superficially it's a good question, really, but if you think about it just a little, it falls apart. Every relationship in this world is in a ways a means to help us understand how we are meant to relate to Hashem, but just because someone is married, does that mean s/he understands what marriage is about? Just because someone isn't married, does that mean s/he doesn't understand what marriage is about?

Rabbi Ilan Feldman, in a talk about why this generation is so uninspired and what we can do about it, talked about how there's a difference between the guy who is taking out the trash to survive in his relationship and the guy who is taking out the trash to make his marriage thrive. He compared it to how we approach our Yiddishkeit. It was a good speech and he had many good points, but that's beyond the scope of our immediate topic. The idea here is that you don't need to be married to understand his analogy.

How many people are married and don't have a good relationship with their spouse? How many people don't feel connected to/communicate with/unconditionally love their spouse, ie. recognize that it's a relationship –– a "we," not a separate me and you, and I'm engaged and I "love" you, not because really I love me/how you make me feel? 

How many people aren't married and have an understanding of what marriage is/what it's supposed to be? I'm sure there are aspects that people who are not married can't fully grasp, no matter how many serious relationships they've been in, but this is the same way that someone who is in a bad marriage doesn't get it either. 

Does someone who doesn't have parents relate differently to G-d? (Perhaps s/he does. I'm honestly curious about that.) However, do we not understand how to relate to Hashem as our Melech, because we don't have absolute monarchies nowadays? 

Point of No Return

Once you've been wheeled and dealt (understand that as you will –– there are plenty of meanings there), what do you do with things you were gifted if/when/after you break up?

First things first: bracelets, engagement rings, watches, and other expensive bounty are unequivocally returned to the bestower. What happens though to inexpensive gifts like books, scarves, and random other things someone gave you when you were dating him/her? What about items that belong to the other person, like his/her items of clothing or his/her books, when given meant as a loan? What about letters, cards, flowers, Dave & Buster prizes, pottery or Paint Nite paintings you painted together, etc.?

Obviously this is my own opinion, and you're welcome to weigh in (as always, feel free to leave a comment, not just ghost-read). While some people might trash everything, I think that each category deserves its own treatment.

The things that belong to the ex should be returned. If you didn't do that while you were still communicating, and you pledged to never talk again or just aren't ready to reach out, have someone else return it, or just mail the stuff. It was given to you, but it's not really yours to throw away.

The inexpensive gifts are rightfully your own to do what you want, but why should you be wasteful? If you don't want the paraphernalia, because it's a painful reminder of what was, give the things away to a friend or charity organization. A former date told me that his best scarf, or maybe it was a snow beanie, was given to him by a good friend who had been gifted it by a girl whom he had dated seriously. Perfect solution. He doesn't want to hold onto stuff from an ex, but it doesn't carry the same significance for his friend.

Letters, cards, flowers, penny prizes, and cheap pottery –– you have my blessing to shatter, burn, and/or otherwise discard of them. It may even make you feel good to do so, a release of sorts. Don't hold onto his/her stuff. The less reminders you have of him/her the easier it is to move on. I remember finding it somewhat cathartic to burn all the letters and notes following the break-up outlined in the second to last paragraph here (and to shatter the breakable things he had given me).

If a break-up is amicable, and they definitely can be, it is sometimes harder to get rid of things. You want to hold onto, and you might want the other person to hold onto, things that remind you of each other. The Three C's help with this. That, time, and moving on...

Heartbreaker or Heartbroken: Which Side Is Harder?

Is it harder to break up with someone or to have someone break up with you?

The context obviously makes a big difference here. If the situation is one in which you have only just met the person and you're operating on a superficial level, or there was little to no connection/chemistry, neither is probably that difficult. Sure, you may feel bad if the other person had feelings for you, and/or was very positive about the shidduch, but at the end of the day, it's just not that hard to say goodbye to someone you shared little with. (If there is hurt here, it would be the losing what the shidduch represented rather than the person himself/herself.)

In cases of longer stints, if you know that someone likes you and you don't like him/her, it may be harder to be the heartbreaker, because if the other party ends things, you probably won't be that broken up. On the flip-side of that, if you like someone and s/he doesn't like you, I'm not sure which would be harder. You almost don't want the person to continue dating you if you know s/he's not into it, so you might rather him/her break it off, but maybe it gives you a sense of empowerment to be the one to call it quits.

I was once dating someone, and things were a bit ambiguous. We got along great, but we had some major hashkafa questions. When push came to shove, because we weren't sure about things, he decided that was enough of a reason to break up. (I should mention that he was happy to continue dating forever, but I sort of forced his hand by inquiring what we were "up to" and wanting a direction/tachlis for our dating.) He suggested we take a break (indefinitely), in other words, break up and keep the option open of revisiting things. (Tangentially, revisiting is always an option, regardless if you outline that when you part ways or not. It makes things harder when you do say it, because you then keep this person in the back of your mind, and it's harder to move on. But maybe that's just me and my need for closure.) Either way, ultimately, he made me feel like I was breaking up with him, or at the very least like it was mutual. I think he thought he was being nice by giving me that empowerment. 

When you find yourself in a serious relationship in which both of you thought things were going somewhere, this is obviously the most difficult scenario. If you break things off, you may end up feeling really awful about what you did to the other person, second guessing your decision, feeling like you created your own unhappiness, or a whole slew of other emotional repercussions. In this case being the heartbreaker still leaves you heartbroken. The other side of that coin is feeling jilted and angry. However, that anger is almost better than just the lonely sad and perhaps guilty feeling of scenario one. 

In one of my serious relationships, I called it quits at the end of round one. I remember feeling really bad about it for awhile afterward. At the end of round two, he ended up picking up that break-up, although we both agreed marriage was not in the cards for us, and the break-up was mutual. I guess we were just not in agreement when the break-up should happen, or maybe it was the fact that he was engaged a little over two months later. He was good about making sure we were both ready to part ways and move on, had the clarity and closure we both needed, but still I think I felt differently than round one. 

For sure in the scenario with the dude I was almost engaged to, in which he changed his mind out of the blue refusing to give any explanation and then got engaged five weeks later, anger helped me there. Had I listened to all the pink/red flags and been the one to break up with him instead of the other way around, I think it would have taken me a lot longer to get over him than it did this way.

Bottomline, break-ups are difficult no matter which way they break. So, please remember a little break-up etiquette. 

Is My Age A Strike Against Me?

I was having a nice little tête-à-tête with The Guy of the Tekufa's rebbe. I'd been dating this fellow for awhile and there were various things holding me back from moving forward with him. In a stab at gaining some clarity, I agreed, at his urging, to go speak with his rebbe. At one point during this meeting, I said something to the effect of, "If all this is bothering me, and specifically x, y, z, why should we continue?" He looked at me and said, "Because you're 22?"

First of all, when did 22 become "old," but more importantly, what does my age have anything to with signing up for a bad marriage? Do we "devalue" with age? I know that for me, the profile of a guy within the ±3 year range of my own age "gets more points," but then isn't age subjective? I guess perhaps the older you are, the less unmarried people there are in your age range, so it's more difficult for you to get a date or whatever. As if that's what this is all about. (Might I remind everyone that it only takes one.) Maybe he meant that as we get older we have less options and get more desperate, but is that a reason why I would marry the wrong guy? Honestly, if I just wanted to get married, I could have done that long ago. My goal is to stay married and have loving, trusting, healthy, communicative relationship with my spouse.

Fast forward a few years from the aforementioned incident, and I find myself in a situation in which I had a bit of a misunderstanding with a young man. If I'm remembering correctly, he had "said yes" but said given that we were not in the same city, we were going to wait until we were to go out. I thought I had until then (it was a specific time) to decide whether I wanted to date him or not. After all, neither of us were waiting for the other, but if we both happened to be available at the time we were in the same city, we would meet. Either way, he understood it a bit differently and felt like I had made him wait all that time for an answer (even though he was dating other people in the meantime). Thus, when we were in the same city and I expressed interest in dating him, he was a bit sour about the whole thing. He told me that he ended up asking his rosh yeshiva if he had to go out with me, as he already had given a yes, but he felt like I had made him wait, and such he was no longer interested. (Pink flag right there by the way –– sign of his ego.) As he relays the story, the rosh told him to find out if I really wanted to date him, or I just felt like I had to because of my advanced age. (I was 25.)

Again, I cannot logically understand why age has anything to do with either scenario. All I can come back to is the desperation theory. The older you get the more you want to date/marry whomever? For me, the older I get, the less I am willing to just date/marry whomever. I find that I am more selective, not less. With dating I would blame it on the fact that I'm now seasoned at this and can pick up on little details (which experience has taught me) that point to someone not being for me. In terms of marriage, the older I am, the less I want to compromise on things that matter for a healthy relationship, because if I've waited this long, would I really throw it away now for a marriage I would be unhappy in?

Really, age is just a number. Think about this, how old would you be if no one knew how old you were?

Don't Wanna Know

Because it's so easy nowadays to keep tabs on an ex, we sometimes get more info than we bargained for. I mean, I sort of want to know when people I've dated get engaged and to who. But, honestly do I really want to know who everyone marries (so I can compare the girls that marry the exs that mattered to myself), when they have a kid, how often, how many...?

It's helpful to know when someone I may have thought about dating again gets engaged, so I can cross him off my list. Other than that, I mean, it's a little hard to hear time and again how everyone else is moving on with their lives and I'm just stuck doing the same thing over and over.

For example, a guy that I dated for an extended amount of time about four to five years ago, who got engaged very shortly afterward, I'm sure he can be well on the way to have a small brood in tow should I ever bump into him in the street. I'm just grateful that we don't live in the same city, and I don't have to worry about that. Point being, do I really want to know who he looks at the way he used to look at me?

My friends might act strange and not bring up his name, because it hurts to think about. I really do hope he's happy now. As for the details, I just don't wanna know.

"So, What Are You Looking For?"

And, go! Thirty seconds or less, sell yourself and tell me what you're seeking in a spouse.

If you've been on this hamster wheel long enough, you probably have your elevator pitch all polished and ready to spew. Or not. No matter how long someone's been in shidduchim, people have a difficult time describing themselves without feeling a bit like they're tooting their own horn. I guess it should be less difficult describing what you're seeking in a significant other, yet we don't always know what we need even if we have a handle on what has worked in the past.

The best is when someone asked me to tell her what type of guy I was looking for, and this (third paragraph from the bottom) ensued. We just can't win, can we? I'm not sure so much people are asking because they want to know, or it's some sort of test.

Sarcasm aside, there is an art to describing who you are and what you're looking for. In general, if you describe yourself with negative or controversial adjectives, those words may be the only thing they will remember. The same goes for describing what you're looking for, even if you put the word "not" in front of the adjectives. For example, if you say, "I'm sort of socially awkward and nerdy," (especially when you don't actually meant that) or "I want someone out-of-town-y, not Harry-ish, just more simple," guess what the person probably got out of that description? What did you?

If you're more quiet one-on-one or shy when you first meet someone, the person you're talking to might get the impression that you're more reticent –– even if you're not. It may not be accurate, but it's how first impressions work. So, if you can't push yourself to be more animated, make it a point to explain that aspect of your personality.

If you have any deal-breakers, be sure to outline those too. For example, if you draw the line at smoking, say so. If you need someone who is confident, softer, has an education/job, etc., make it a point to put that out there at the get-go, so you don't waste anyone's time.

Talking about yourself can feel unnatural, but if you figure out how to work your descriptions into a conversation, you can make it flow rather than making it seem like you're stroking your ego. For example, sometimes I'll talk about how my job reflects a lot about my personality, and because this is so, this and this characteristic in a guy works best for me. In that one sentence I told the person what I do, a couple of things about my personality, and a few important character traits I'm seeking in a spouse. Maybe your job isn't the springboard for you, but perhaps a hobby or a pursuit you're involved in can be. Try to concoct one of these for yourself; it'll be useful to have handy when someone randomly asks, "So, what are you looking for?"

Taking a Dating Break

I guess I've never officially "taken a break" from dating, like "said no" to someone's "yes" because I was "on a break," but there have definitely been times when I decided I wasn't going to go out unless something sounded exactly on target, and I didn't get back to all the people that were waiting to redt their ideas when I gave them the go ahead that I was available again. Sure, I've had "breaks" when no one was suggested/there were no "yeses," but that's different, because at those times I was still actively pursuing options, ie. networking, reaching out to shadchanim, etc. etc.

I would assume this is different for a guy, because if he's not dating then it's usually by choice. It's the way the system works, the guy is the initiator of process. Usually. (To clarify, "dating" in the shidduch world doesn't necessarily mean just the going out, you see. There are all these steps involved, like accepting an idea, "looking into" the person, getting back to the shadchan, waiting for the other side to do some research and decide whether s/he wants to meet, etc.) Generally when a name, a serious suggestion, gets to me, it means that someone already did some legwork. It often means that it's relevant in some way. Not always, not always. I then feel like if I don't do some work to find out if it is relevant, then maybe I'm passing up my bashert because I decided I was "on a break."

Yet, when I feel, to borrow song lyrics, like I'm through playing by the rules of someone else's game, and like this all just comes at too high a cost, then I recognize that I need a break. I need a break to refresh, regroup, and stop trying so hard, getting so frustrated when concentrated concerted effort fails time and again. It's good to have some time and space to reconnect with everything else in my life without the distraction of shidduchim, because that's what it is, it's a distraction. Getting married is my priority right now, so it's always on my mind. The hishtadlus I need to do is always there. Letting it go for just a little while helps me with my other priorities in life: maintaining my sanity and happiness.

I think I just need to remember that Hashem truly runs the world, and whatever is supposed to happen will happen. If I repeatedly make bad choices then my bechira can and will mostly probably get in the way, but if I'm making calculated judgements, I highly doubt that I'll mess things up for myself. (If I "say no" to someone because I'm on a break or I'm busy dating someone else, if he's my bashert I'm sure we will have the opportunity to date at some later time.) Sometimes you really do just have to let go and let G-d. Less hishtadlus, less headache, and maybe he'll just ride up on his white stallion without me having to dangle the horse treat. After all, we put in hishtadlus one place, and the yeshua comes from somewhere else. Maybe my hishtadlus is to daven more and meet less people...  

Freezing Friends Out

I'm pretty sure this is an exclusively female ailment. For some reason, when a girl is dating seriously or gets engaged/gets married, she often drops her (single) friends. Doesn't she know she needs friends (outside of her husband) even after she's married?! Your spouse cannot be your everything, and even if he's really good at putting up with female drivel, you would do a lot better if you had a support system and social life that isn't just one person. Sure, your husband needs to be your priority, and you need to work on your relationship with him (sometimes to the detriment of your other relationships), but balance is key!

All too often girls freeze out their friends while they're dating seriously. Sometimes it's because they're unsure and insecure the whole time and isolate themselves without meaning to as a means to cope with the situation. Sometimes, they just get so wrapped up in it that they somehow forget about their friends who have supported them through so much else. Sometimes it's because someone told them that bracha comes to things that are hidden, so they don't want to tell people. Sometimes they just want to feel special and love the surprise when the friend whom they've shared every secret with up until now is blindsided. 

It's been awhile since I've been on the receiving end of this. I remember when my first friend to do this to me did this. We were super close, talked multiple times a day, and probably saw each other six out of seven days of the week, if not every day. Because we were in this much contact, of course I knew something was up, but she even denied that she was dating, making up multiple excuses why she wasn't around. She didn't date her husband that long, so she thought she was keeping up the facade well. I remember exactly where I was when I took her call when she told me that she was engaged, and this was five or so years ago. It was around 5:00 pm, and literally the conversation went like this, "Hi! Guess what? I'm engaged!! The l'chaim's at 7:00 at my house; you better be there! I gotta go call more people, bye." I was left asking, "Are you serious? To who?" to the dead phone. For real.

Things were a little ugly after that, so I'll skip ahead to the part a few weeks later where we sat down and talked about it...the first time we talked after that phone call. She explained how insecure she was, how she thought that telling anyone would mess things up for her, how she knows she kept a few secrets from her chosson and she was nervous some well meaning friend would tell him/his family and he wouldn't go through with the engagement, etc. etc. The funny thing is that he told so many people before their engagement was official, so while she thought she kept the best secret, he had already told half of the city.

On another occasion, a different close friend whom I talked to daily fell off the map for a month. She called me to share her news when she was dating her husband seriously. It was her first guy, and like so many other girls, she didn't really know how to navigate the parsha and how her friends fit in. Lucky for her, they dated for a bit after that, so I didn't feel completely left out of her life.

While it isn't pleasant for anyone, I think this hurts the most when the friend "being frozen out" is older and/or has been in shidduchim longer, has had more shidduch challenges, and the like. If you trust your friend when it comes to everything else, what happened here? At the end of the day, she wants to feel part of your life. You don't have to seek her advice or support while you're dating, or if you don't feel comfortable telling her about what's going on, even just a little heads-up makes all the difference. It's the difference between "I'm engaged," ie. my life just changed irrevocably and you're not part of it, and "I'm getting engaged tomorrow/tonight" –– my life is about to change in a crazy big way and I wanted to let you know so you can be part of it. 

Friends are important, and it's really hard to recover those relationships if you put them on ice.

Five Life Lessons I Learned From Skiing

1. You are the only one who can get yourself down the mountain. Sometimes the world looks daunting from the peak of the mountain, or the ski trail looks formidable from the top. You can do it; you must. You're the only person who can get yourself where you need to be. Sometimes it means taking your time, slowing things up as things seem to whiz past you and you try desperately to control your speed or stop altogether to catch your breath. Sometimes you can't stop, and life has no pause button. It means leaning into the curves and trying to angle yourself perpendicular to the fall line. Even if you wipe out, you'll make it down the mountain (see #3), somehow. You may just need to regroup, shake it off, and start again.

2. Stepping outside your comfort zone is the only way you're going to get better at this. It's normal to be nervous the first time you try something new. Each new skill, new slope, new technique, may make your heart beat faster and your hands get a little clammy. It doesn't mean that you shouldn't do it. Sometimes you just need to take a leap of faith, challenge yourself, because you won't know if you can soar, build the skills you need to become more adept at this, if you stay at the bottom of the mountain. Take some deep breaths, believe in yourself, and go for it.

3. When you fall, the only option is to get up and keep going. Even really skilled and proficient individuals fall sometimes; it happens. You just have to get up, brush yourself off, and keep going. It's frustrating, maybe it's scary, but it's the only choice. You can't let setbacks get the best of you. The only way out is through. Quitting won't get you anywhere, nor will throwing a tantrum. Face your fears and keep going.

4. You're stronger than you think, even if it feels like things are out-of-control. Looking back at an imposing mountain you just skied down can give you a great sense of accomplishment, even if you didn't have the greatest feeling of control coasting down it. You really can handle more than you think. When things start seeming out-of-control, you may have the urge to crash land, but by swerving (no matter how counterintuitive at some points) slowing things up a bit, your risk will pay off, and that temporary feeling like things are spinning out-of-control will eventually dissipate.

5. There is always something new to learn. You can never stop learning. There are always more strategies to master, more techniques to pick up, more mountains to conquer. Every new mountain holds new potential, new experience. Changing your view from horizontal to vertical can greatly switch up how you perceive things, and there is so much to gain when you stretch those seldom used muscles. So many mountains you haven't yet skied down, so many places/people/things waiting for your imprint on their unmarked blanket of snow.

Don't Single Out the Single

A couple months ago many of you and some random others helped to compile some thoughts from a singles' perspective about the "shidduch crisis," how everyone wants to help, but often they end up causing more pain to the people they are ultimately trying to assist. I stitched the ideas together and submitted it for publication to our lovely frum publications. (They are the ones that seem to be obsessed with sensationalizing the whole shidduch scene.) One of them nixed it outright. Another is still considering it, and the last, after a long process came back with how they aren't going to publish it, because they are working on a similar piece for a Yom Tov issue:

Thank you for sending your thought-provoking piece. It makes a number of excellent points, but it isn’t going to work for us at this time. We're writing an article about the realities of being a single woman in our family-oriented, motherhood-oriented society – what it’s like, coping skills, how we–as a community–could expand the role of a frum woman to be more inclusive and less family-dependent without minimizing our values of creating beautiful homes and families.

How does being single affect a woman today - socially, professionally, and on the communal level? What about hashkafically - how does the single woman deal internally with the fact that motherhood and marriage have always been idealized as the means to the ultimate goal? How can she remain vitalized, and cultivate an authentic, if different, sense of purpose?

I wonder if there's anything authentic really to write about their topic after all when the goal is to become a wife and mother. I understand why that seems a little less messy then baring the complaints from singles about how they're treated at simchos or in life in general.

A group of us was asked to come to a wedding of a friend out of town, which we did, even though we all had to pay our own way. Our friend asked us to stay for Shabbos sheva brachos, and despite some misgivings, we agreed to stay in town for Shabbos and to come to the Friday night meal. From the moment he saw us, the kallah's father made it clear that because he was feeding us, we were responsible for the singing atmosphere. You give a bachur meat, he sings on demand. There were guys there younger than us and/or our age, but because they were married and we were not, the “bachurim” were expected to make it leibedig.

Even so, many points were actually more upbeat and even thought-provoking.

Yuntif is always hard when it falls out during the week for those that work at jobs in secular

environments and need to take “leave time” to get off work. One year when yuntif was all weekdays and it was very stressful, well-meaning people offered support via comments like, “This is your s’char Torah. You’re working so you can support a husband in learning.” While that feels nice for the future, right now my life has to have meaning too. Someone commented to me, “This is your mesiras nefesh for yuntif. You know how in the past people lost their jobs to keep Shabbos? This stress of figuring out yuntif and time off, this is your mesiras nefesh as a Jew.” This makes so much more sense, because I have an avoda even as a single.

I thought everyone had good points to make, so I will figure out how to publish it one way or another. In the meantime, I'm curious to see what they will write about single girls navigating a mother/family oriented society.

I think the idea bothers me, because it seems like they're approaching it like they would what it's like to be deaf in a hearing world or blind in a seeing world. Why are we trying to find a different sense of purpose? Sure, we want to be acknowledged as a person now, for our accomplishments now, to fit into society as is, but there is a reason we don't. As singles, we don't want to accept this as an identity, as a reality. We're forward-looking, thinking about when we will be spouses, parents.

I think it's a lot about how people perceive and treat others who have somehow gotten off the conveyor belt that Judaism has become, anyone that whose yellow brick road had some detours, trying to figure out how to make sense of it. Being single isn't our choice, permanent, or a different identity. I think the answer is really just treat us like normal people. (There's a whole slew of ideas from so many different people in the article I compiled if they would just publish it.)

Sure, their article is going to be provocative, because that's what they're aiming for. They sensationalize contemporary issues to sell their paper, not caring whose feelings they step on in the process. If they really were sincere about figuring this issue out, I would suggest not publishing an article about how to find a different sense of purpose.

Yeses and Nos

Nothing about him really jumps out at me. There isn't really a definite reason for me to say he isn't for me, but I'm just not excited about dating him. Do I have to agree to go out with him just because he wants to go out with me?

So obviously, I know the answer; it's no, I don't have to date him, but sometimes I feel like "saying no" to someone who "says yes" to me can be me messing things up. Maybe he doesn't stand out on paper, but if I met him we would hit it off. Who knows? Usually I think if a resume is coming across my inbox with interest from a guy, I feel like we should already be ballpark. Honestly, sometimes we're not even in the same league.

Perhaps it's harder to be a guy with resumes inundating you all the time, not knowing who to look into and who to say yes to, especially if a shadchan sends you five resumes at once, but at least you know that likely a lot of them are no shychis.

I used to take every "yes" very seriously and make serious inquires about each guy, but now I think I've gotten to the point that unless I haven't dated in awhile and I'm bored, if the idea doesn't sound promising/appealing, it isn't treated equally. I just can't afford to go out with everyone. The cost is too high; it weighs on me emotionally.

There are enough people who I date that I think going into it that it could be something, and it ends up being a complete waste of time/energy. Why should I go out with the person I pretty much know before will be a futile attempt? I'm just setting myself up for failure.

It's So Complicated

"I'm not in a rush, because I know that I'll probably still be single in a year or two from now. More complicated people just take longer to get married," he said to me as he was explaining why it didn't matter if we went out again this week or next. That story is a whole separate rant, but he brings up an interesting point: do more complex people take longer to get married? If yes, why is this so? If you truly believe that Hashem is m'zaveg zivugim, is it "harder" for Hashem to match up the more complicated of us? 

In the hishtadlus/emunah realm of this question, even though Hashem is the ultimate Shadchan and nothing is hard for Him, there still is tevah. It's like someone recently tried to convince me that this is similar to the reason why there are more older single girls than guys (if that's true), as per the "shidduch crisis" and the "age gap." I personally disagree and think that if you leave your fate up to tevah then sure, this is all true for you, but if you understand it all in the context of the bigger picture and rely on Hashem to give you what you need, you've moved beyond that. Learn any sefer on Bitachon, it'll tell you that. 

If we break it down though and try to understand the tevah aspects of it, perhaps the more simple someone is, the less things they have to line up with someone else to make a shidduch work. Maybe his/her "bashert" pool is wider because there are more people who fit what s/he needs. (I should probably stay away from words like "bashert," because if you marry someone then isn't it bashert even if s/he is not your "zivug"? Do we even have only one person we're supposed to marry? The last time I had this conversation on a date the guy told me that I'm misunderstanding the gemara "bas ploni l'ploni" and it doesn't mean what I think it does...)

Here's another thought –– it's a bit of a chicken/egg dilemma. Do people who are more complex take longer to find their life partner, or as people take a long time to find the person they will marry they become more complex? As someone gets further and further away from formal education and is left to his/her own devices to figure things out, s/he has the time, space, and mental capacity to discover who s/he is and/or wants to be, developing his/her interests and personality. Usually this results in a certain complexity, because as we break away from the cookie cutter mold and start making choices for ourselves, we develop our individuality. And then, there are many "complicated" people who don't "take longer to get married," so perhaps it really is that people develop their complexities as they live more time outside of a controlled environment. 

So yes, maybe the maturity and sophistication you seek is harder to find, especially in the blend that you're looking for. Maybe you have more points to match up. Maybe your multifacetedness is a result of you being single this long. Maybe nothing is hard for Hashem, and it really doesn't matter. Even with all these points outlined, I don't think there's a definitive answer to the question.

"Am I Just Going to End Up Married to Someone I Don't Like?"

It's the fear of the single who has been struggling with shidduchim for awhile. The "exciting" potentials seem to be the ones that have the wrong hashkafos, wouldn't make a good spouse, or just plain aren't on the table or turn you down after one or two dates.

I've fielded this question over and over again coming from people who can't seem to get along with or don't like the dates they think would actually make a good spouse. This leaves these warriors to believe that they're just going to have settle for someone they aren't really attracted to if they want to get married.

My answer to this is a resounding, "No, you won't." If you wanted to "just marry" that person you don't like but makes sense for you on paper, you would have already married him/her! There may not be fireworks when you meet the right one, you may not like him/her right away, but you will like him/her before you get engaged. If you don't, you're making a mistake to take that step.

Marriage isn't just about lining things up and checking off boxes. While everyone figures out what makes sense for them and when differently, there needs to be that connection there. There needs to be that place to return to when the going gets tough. Because it will. Because that's what happens in real life. If you don't respect/like/see potential for love this person, chances are that things will be difficult for you in a marriage with him/her. (It can come later, but there are no guarantees that it will.)

So, yes, you will find that someone that makes sense on paper and in your heart. Absolutely. Just hang in there a little longer...

How Well Does the Shadchan Know You?

"Who's your main shadchan?" she asked me.

Does anyone have a "main shadchan"? I mean, there are specific shadchanim I work with that I would say I feel closer to, ie. know me a bit better than the random ones that call once in a blue moon with an idea, I would question about names or ask him/her to be the go-between if I needed one, but there isn't one person that sets me up the most. And in fact, my "best shots" were all suggested by friends/neighbors/relatives (or I picked him out myself...those didn't end too well though).

I can't remember the statistic (mostly because I don't actually believe it's accurate, mostly because how would someone gather that kind of data to figure that number out?), but supposedly a large portion of shidduchim are made by friends/neighbors/relatives. (I think I saw that in some NASI Project ad or somesuch.)

I know for me that this works best, because despite what I explain to a shadchan, I think it's difficult to grasp who a person is in one encounter. I happen to be able to articulate important aspects about myself and what type of person I'm looking for, but even so it's hard to get an accurate portrayal of someone in one meeting (and sometimes shadchanim just don't understand a type). Additionally, many people can't describe themselves accurately or explain what's important to them in spouse, so this makes it even more difficult for a shadchan.

If someone wonders why the guys s/he redts someone never say yes, they need to think about if they've gotten the type right. If someone says "no" based on my resume or preliminary research it generally means that it's not a good idea; we would never get along. For example, I've had people not want to go out with me because of my profession. If someone doesn't like what I do, it means that we wouldn't understand each other anyway. It's a good vetting process. By the time someone's resume (with a "yes") reaches me, usually there will be something that makes sense there, but not always obviously.

Tangentially, everyone matches to someone. There isn't an objectively ideal type of person. What one person thinks is the deal-sealer, someone else could think is a deal-breaker. For example, if I want a guy who is sitting in yeshiva and learning, to me that would be worth a lot. To the girl who wants someone with a college degree and/or a good job, that could be a deal-breaker.

Either way, each time someone who doesn't know me sets me up, we have some sort of interaction, they get more and more of an idea of what I want, what I need, what works for me, and what doesn't. I once heard someone speaking about shidduchim suggest that if someone suggests someone to you, you should go out even if you don't think that the person is for you per se, because it helps you to foster a relationship with that person/shadchan. I happen to highly disagree with this, because we don't just date to date, but that's a different conversation.

It would make sense to say that the better someone knows you, the better their suggestions. However, some people really don't get it but make a fair share of shidduchim anyway. Perhaps it's all siyatta dishmaya.

Positive Until Proven Negative or Negative Until Proven Positive?

Sure, the thing that hurts the most is hope when it's taken away, but perhaps there is a balanced way to approach this. Even if you convince yourself that "this one might be The One," you can temper your expectation, so if things fall apart it will hurt less. I'm still learning how to do this...

As we've previously discussed, there are many methods of assessing the potential of a relationship. Perhaps this positive/negative one is a general category, or maybe it's an additional method to those outlined in the linked post. I'm sure there are probably many nuanced combinations of this positive/negative approach as well.

A friend once told me that she goes into each date with the mindset of, "This is is my husband unless he proves to me otherwise." Her system ("positive until proven negative") involves coming at each potential suitor with the attitude that this will be the person she marries until he shows her otherwise, ie. they don't get along, their values don't match up, he "says no" to her, etc.

This method involves trying to make each relationship work. Think about it, if you enter into a shidduch looking for something wrong, no doubt you will find it. Nobody is perfect; there will always be things that aren't as you would have imagined had you created the perfect person for yourself.

The flip side to this ("negative until proven positive") is that the person you are meeting is just another guy/girl. Unless there are fireworks, or the person checks off most of the items on your list, you may not be seeing him/her again. It's up to your date to prove himself/herself worthy, so to speak.

The dangers in this practice is that you may write someone off, because you don't click right away or his/her list-worthy traits aren't right at the surface. Obviously you cannot get engaged to someone just because there is nothing wrong, there need to be things right too; however, you can take as long as you need to to figure this out. There is no timeline. As long as you are upfront with the person you are dating (or the shadchan) and are providing the individual with accurate feedback and not just leading him/her along, you don't have to try to check off all your little boxes within five dates of meeting the person or bust.

I guess I'm leaning in favor of the positive until proven negative side. Which one do you prefer?

Escapism

More and more I've been feeling lost. I used to be able to pull myself away from that all but consuming feeling that can't be described in any other way than despair. It used to be easier to forge ahead and believe that respite was just around the corner, but it's gotten so much more difficult to do that recently. 

The break-down is splashed all across these pages. It's no longer about fostering resilience in the face of this never ending cycle of feeding quarters into the game and coming away with less than what I started with. As much as I don't want to admit it, I've started to let go of my hold on the belief that this is all worth something. 

And so, my new strategy is avoidance. Hardly a healthy one, I know, but it works in short bursts. If I pretend that it doesn't hurt, absorb my mind in something else, maybe it won't. If I forget that I have one goal, and one goal only in this battle, maybe I'll start to believe it, and when things explode in my face it won't sting so much. I just have to stop caring so much I guess. I'm sure I'm losing a part of myself when I let this go, but I'll lose even more if I can't figure out how to manage this. 

Fiction is great for fighting reality, as long as you don't get stuck in the fiction. The harshness of reality is much more easily handled in broken up bits, smaller manageable pieces. It's why the entertainment industry is raking it in. It's why we find solace in movies, TV, video games, sports, books, music, mindless internet browsing, etc. 

I guess it's why I already planned my next vacation when I just got back from my last one. It's hardly about seeking out warm climates in the middle of the winter; okay, it's a little about that, but it's more about the fact that I'm escaping. I fully admit that. Add a "fun" ride to the experience (that cherry red convertible will do), and I'm good. Totally guilty of escapism, but also of self-care. It's one of those buzzwords that are popular for a reason –– it's important. 

My vote? Escapism is great if you know how to and when to snap back to reality. I'm always looking for new vacation buddies, so, who's in?

Momentum

Especially within Petri dish shidduchim, momentum is super important. Dating in a controlled system, when 'this' is "supposed to" happen at this time, you're "supposed to" be up to 'x' at that point, etc., there needs to be something that is keeping the relationship going. While the situation is already a bit forced and unnatural, too much time between dates and/or contact causes the couple to lose whatever comfortability and familiarity they have.

A second date is best when it closely follows a first date, and waiting more than a few days to a week before a couple sees each other again can set them back, almost as if they have to start all over again. That second date can be even worse than a first date, because it isn't a first date, so there isn't an excuse for the awkward "I'm meeting you for the first time and trying to figure out (how to navigate) our dynamic." Yet, you don't either really know the person, and you may have lost whatever familiarity you gained by the first meeting.

I was once dating someone, and for whatever reason, perhaps a sibling's wedding and sheva brachos, or maybe he got sick, we had a space of almost two weeks between our first and second date. The first half of that second date was preettty awkward. It wasn't a first date, so we were already acquainted and had covered the basic small talk, but we'd lost the small amount of ease we'd gained after our first meeting. We ended up doing the small talk again, trying desperately to break out of the floundering. I think we actually managed to do that about halfway through, and I ended up dating him two more times after that. I wonder if things would have been different had we not had that much lag-time.

In reality, momentum is crucial at every stage of the game. Each phase has its own challenges, but I think the beginning is the hardest to navigate. It's the awkward non-relationship stage where you're neither here nor there, and communication is stilted. I think some people believe shidduch dating is a bubble, and they fail to recognize that it isn't an excuse to treat anyone in any way that you wouldn't outside of this system. So, while you may not have a "relationship" with the person you dated a few times, mentchlach communication is still required...but I digress.

Within our system there are these added hurdles, these awkward rules and protocol that may or may not be assumed or followed. Is the couple communicating directly? Is it okay to call/text? Can they call each other by (first) name or is that too intimate? Will he ask her out or is the shadchan setting up the dates? Etc, etc. Until a relationship (and these things) is established, the non-relationship is sort of precarious, and their momentum hopefully works to propel them to smoother, clearer waters.

I believe it was a situation in which for awhile we were only able to date on weekends, and so since I'd met the guy, we talked on the phone, a lot. I'm not sure that was the greatest solution to this momentum issue, because it brought with it it's own challenges, but it lent a sense of comfortability and familiarity (or maybe that was there naturally, and it was the reason we were able to have hour long phone conversations every night even early on in the relationship).

Momentum is the something to keep in mind when deciding how much time to allow between dates; it can probably make or break a shidduch. Obviously, we don't date in a vacuum, real life will always do a good job of getting in the way, so we just have to be creative and work around the obstacles that life presents.

Sometimes I Just Want to Give Up

Sometimes I just want to give up ––

Just to give up on everything, leave, start a new life somewhere far far away.

I hate this battle.

I hate that it requires me to fight every day on the front lines, and I have nothing to show for it.

I walk the line every day between throwing in the towel and seeing how much more I can take.



At these times I try so hard to remember what I'm fighting for and why I haven't given up until now.

I can't just throw it all away, everything I've put into this up to this point.

We leave not because things are hard, but because things are no longer worth it.

So, I'll fight alone if I have to.

My reserves are low, but it only takes one spark to make an explosion, right?

The Wizarding World of Shidduchim

I was recently having a conversation with some friends about why it seems so easy for some people to just get engaged and get married, and for others shidduchim is years and years of anxiety and pain. Perhaps it is true that the simpler someone is, the less s/he needs in a life partner and therefore there are many people that fit the bill (thereby widening his/her pool of potential matches), but one friend brought up a valid point: the "simple" people already have so much in common. Likely they're coming from similar backgrounds, and so they already have all those similarities going for them. The more "complicated" someone is, the more characteristics s/he potentially has that may clash with someone else's. More on complexities and "older" singles another time, but here I want to talk about how background plays a large part in compatibility.

Hardly my own chiddush, frumkeit and its comparison to Harry Potter Wizarding World blood status is an interesting analogy that can help us understand this. Perhaps FFBs are "Purebloods." (Does someone need to be born to FFB parents to be a Pureblood, or does being born and raised frum qualify him/her?) I would assume that a BT would be a "Half-blood," and a convert is a "Muggle-born" "Mudblood." A non religious/unaffiliated Jew would then be a "Squib," ie. he can't access his "magic." A non-Jew would be considered a "Muggle"/"No-Maj."

With all that said, I'm not suggesting that we have a hierarchy in status based in yeichus or how we're born and raised. After all, all the good guys in Harry Potter don't stigmatize and/or discriminate anyone based on their blood status. I simply call upon the analogy to reconcile how backgrounds and hashkafa play a role in our understanding of the world and ergo our relationships. As a simple example, just as Hermione had no idea that being termed a "Mudblood" was derogatory, there is information and certain nuances that someone who isn't born frum lacks. Sure, s/he can pick it up, and s/he has the advantage of having coming from a place of broader knowledge and weltanschauung. Combining the intelligence he picks up when he makes the transition to Torah Judaism, s/he ends up more worldly than the average sheltered religious Jew. Now, there is something beautiful to being sheltered and insular as a community, but it's just very different than someone who is more broad-minded (either by choice or by upbringing).

There obviously is no objective "right" hashkafa, and there is no dial to turn to adjust what someone thinks about x, y, or z issue. It's sort of a miracle when two people end up thinking the same way about everything (which usually doesn't happen, and you don't need to think the same way as your spouse about every single thing) ...when you start to venture outside of communities that don't value individual thinking and sort of brainwash their members to all be the same and do the same thing.

Rabbi Benzion Klatzko talks about a related topic in a shuir labeled, "Can You Choose Your Judaism?" He comes at the issue by speaking about how different sects of Judaism involve themselves in kiruv, how each sect plays their own part, how what they do works for them, and how we need all twelve shevatim doing their own thing for Team Klal Yisroel to work.

Either way, back to the original topic at hand. Perhaps when two "Purebloods" meet, things are very simple for them. Their worldview is similar and they've been raised with a certain hashkafa. Purebloods that have more knowledge of, or are more involved in, things outside of the Wizarding World will have more complexities. (I don't think that complexities all boil down to how "broad" someone is, but it plays a large part.) Purebloods can marry Half-Bloods, can marry Mudbloods. It's just that the broader Pureblood, Half-Blood, Mudblood, will have a harder time finding someone that shares their exact combination of knowledge/outlook/worldview.

How to Effectively Use a Shadchan

For every different stage and slight different cultural disparities, there are various roles that shadchanim play within a shidduch. For the "yeshivish" 19 and 23 year olds who are going out for the first time, the shadchan will likely hold their hands through the whole process, from setting up dates, perhaps suggesting a venue, to moving the shidduch along, and even facilitating the engagement. For the 29 year olds who know the drill and have been through the process many times, perhaps the shadchan just introduced them and helped them to exchange phone numbers. They set up the dates themselves, and they may even let one another know when they don't think it's a shidduch without the intervening of a go-between.

It really all comes down to communication. When we're dating, we're trying to create a relationship with the other person. Sometimes shadchanim can get in the way of this when people use them as buffers or hide behind them. Having a shadchan can be useful in the beginning of a shidduch dating scenario, as it's less hurtful to end things through a third party when there isn't a relationship established yet. Shadchanim can also be helpful in terms of feedback when a couple is not at a stage where they are discussing this between themselves. For example, after a pareve first date (on my end), if I hear that the guy thought it was very positive, I'll usually give it another shot. Or, perhaps something someone does comes across some (negative) way, a shadchan may be able to explain it and help reconcile the situation.

I'm not a fan of using a shadchan past a third or fourth date, because I think it gets in the way of the couple establishing a real relationship. There needs to be accountability and communication. It's helpful for the shadchan to be involved, sure, but not that the guy and girl are going back to the shadchan after each date and saying whether they'd like to go out again and having the shadchan set up the date. Obviously this doesn't work for everyone, but I would really like for a guy I'm dating past a third/fourth date to ask me out, even just to end the date by saying, "I had a nice time; can I call you to set up another date?" (If a girl can't give you a straight answer on that one, as the guy you just say, "Okay, no worries. We'll be in touch through the shadchan.")

Even when the couple has dropped the shadchan altogether, it can be helpful to check in with the shadchan periodically for feedback purposes. Because you're still trying to get to know each other and you may not be comfortable to tell everything to the person himself/herself, talking it over with the shadchan who can then relay the important parts to the other person, or the shadchan can give you some perspective on your doubts, can be beneficial. Many shadchanim are in the practice of doing "dating coaching," and some of them are pretty good at it actually. Sometimes you're not hesitating about the person you're dating, but something the person or scenario is triggering. A good dating coach can help you realize and overcome this.

A shadchan is not just about "Do you want to see him/her again," and "Okay, when are you available," but also to help you get through the bumps along the way. They can (more) objectively hear about what you appreciate about the other person and what your concerns are. They can help you navigate how you're feeling and what makes sense for you. This all being said, they can assist you to do this without being involved every step of the way. At the end of the day, the relationship is just you and the other person. 

"Um...Something Came Up": To Tell or Not to Tell You're Going on a Date

One of the challenges of keeping your life full and having almost every day/night earmarked for a specific activity or pursuit is that when you need to fit a date in, it means cancelling on someone. The someone usually also knows why you're cancelling.

It doesn't matter if I, in reality, missed our weekly shiur because I had a friend/cousin/neighbor's wedding or sheva brachos or just wasn't feeling well. It will always be assumed that I was on a date. That's great; I'm in shidduchim, I'm trying to get married, so yes, I go on dates sometimes, but I really don't need to be keeping everyone updated about what's going on. You want to assume I was on a date, be my guest. You'll probably be right about 75% of the time. The rub is when I'm expected to let you know why I'm cancelling on you.

Sure, it's common decency sometimes. "I know we've been planning this party for weeks, but uh...something came up and I couldn't get out of it." It's just that dating has to take priority. When will I ever randomly cancel like that for something less important? When I make a commitment it's like a blood pact. (It's the J in me.) I really try to avoid it, but sometimes it's inevitable.

It seems almost crazy, because can't we wait for a time that doesn't conflict with the plans I've already set? A little peek at my calendar reflects that I don't have a free night for awhile. Whoops. It's juggling––either I elect to flake on our weekly shuir, a party, plans we made days ago, or one of the two nights a week that I'm working (those are a little less negotiable).

So I know that I don't have to tell everyone why I'm missing something, but they'll assume anyway, and then I look like I'm trying to hide something. It's not that, I just don't need everyone I know to know that I'm dating someone. They start wanting to know all the details and thinking things are getting serious when they're not.

People get weird too about not talking at all about dating, because bracha comes upon hidden things. I once had a friend who, while she was dating her husband, lied the whole time about it. We were close at the time (or perhaps I should say we were close during the tekufa before she started dating him and then shut me out); we talked multiple times a day and saw each other at least once every other day. During this time period, she started acting super sketchy. When I confronted her about it, she made up some lie about how she wasn't dating...until she called me to let me know she was engaged. I guess there's that extreme too...

I say go for the happy medium (if there ever is one). Don't shut your friends out, because they're there for you in every other aspect of your life. Why would you pretend it's okay to shut them out here? On the other hand, they should also respect your privacy. It's a delicate line...

What I Learned in 2016

When the numbers turn on the calendar, it makes me a little nostalgic –– not that much, but a little –– enough to make me reflect on the year. What happened in 2016?  I learned a lot, even if if I spent a better part of the end of 2015 and the beginning of 2016 tied up dating one disappointment (and I'll admit, that's the nicer version of how I might have described him). 

A big thing that I gained this year from all my dating experiences is the recognition that nothing is permanent. Not good things, not bad things, not pain, and not glory. Things happen and life moves on. There are ups and there are downs, and we get through them all somehow. It's humbling and sobering to recognize this. It teaches you to hold onto the good times and hang in there during the challenging ones. What good you may have today might be gone tomorrow. In the same way, the hard times will fade too.

I also learned that despite always saying that I want to date my husband for a long time before getting engaged, I don't really want to date anyone for an extended period of time. Sure, I want to know him before we get engaged, but if things aren't complicated, and I really hope they won't be, then I don't need to date for that long. If things work, they can just work. If they don't, they won't. I've had enough of dancing around an early relationship and pretending. I'm in this for one purpose: it's marriage or bust. Granted, you need a few dates to see if you "click," but past that I want to get to know someone and see if it works marriage/values-wise. I don't have the patience to make small talk and discuss nothing for six, seven dates.

This year I've grasped too that a solid "working guy" can be so much better quality than a "learning guy." I have the utmost respect for the guy that goes to school/goes out to work and keeps his learning seder every day and his hashkafos intact. I used to say that I wanted a learning guy, and dating someone who was working was a b'deieved. Now, l'hefech. I want the guy who is the real deal, the fellow that goes to minyan before work every day and keeps his learning seder after work. I think that's so much more praiseworthy.

I saw too how important it is to trust your gut. In the scenario mentioned above, in which the guy I dated for awhile took me for a ride, I believe he ignored his instinct, which told him that it wasn't a shidduch, the whole time he was dating me. He ignored it for who knows what reason––he liked me, he thought I was pretty, he was having fun, whatever, and when push came to shove, he just couldn't seal the deal. He should have listened to his intuition from the beginning. In another situation, I went out with a guy, who, in so many ways we were similar, and I'm pretty certain the "like" was mutual, but based on something he perceived, his gut told him it wouldn't work marriage-wise, and he ended it. Good for him for not dragging it out. We have intuition for a reason, listen to it!

I learned so much about myself this year too. As much as a lot of you dislike Myers-Briggs, and/or don't think you fit into a type so it's not helpful, I like it, because I'm a pretty distinct type. Becoming more familiar with personality typing has helped me to understand why I do certain things and how I see the world. It's assisted me to understand how other people perceive the world around them and why I clash with some people so hard. It's aided me to realize why I love so hard and why I don't do anything halfway, why I have a great need to connect to others, to give and to nurture. 

Reflecting on 2016 makes me realize that as the years stack up and I gain more life experience, I have a lot to show for it. I'm developing myself as a person. Each year, month, day, I learn a little bit more about me and life. Each experience brings a new perspective. So much to gain...