Struggle and Frumkeit

When we're struggling, why is it that we take it out on our Yiddishkeit? Why is religious observance one of the first things to go? Every situation is different, but I would say that this is the case across the board with various struggles. Some challenges have a direct correlation to Judaism, and therefore it makes sense for the person struggling to reject Yiddishkeit or being frum/the frum community. If a child is abused and it's covered up by community leaders, if a teenager doesn't feel like being frum holds meaning for him/her and s/he thinks that perhaps what's out there in the big bad world is better, etc., it makes sense for those individuals to leave frumkeit. But, what about a young person who is waiting to find his/her marriage partner, a couple waiting for a child, or someone battling an illness? 

Does becoming more lax in Yiddishkeit make what someone is going through any easier? On the contrary, s/he should strengthen his/her commitment towards G-d, it will help him/her find meaning in the pain. For people who don't understand the purpose of this world, perhaps it's easy for them to leave Torah and mitzvos, because they can't understand why if G-d is good He is doing this to them. But for someone who is frum (by choice), recognizing that the here and now isn't the purpose of one's existence will be helpful in gaining perspective in what s/he is going through. However, it seems like it's quite the opposite. When someone goes through a hardship, sometimes it's a struggle to hold onto the fact that there is a G-d who loves him/her and is watching over him/her. And even when s/he does know that, it seems to be difficult to strengthen his/her resolve to be the best Jew s/he can be. Why is this the case?

I'm still trying to figure it out completely, but I'll share some of my thoughts. (They aren't all my own, some of them come from various friends whom I've discussed this topic with.) 

Perhaps part of being single is not having to worry about how your actions will affect a family. You can be self-absorbed and do whatever it is you want without worrying that it may influence other people. If it's easier to sleep in and not daven by the zman, there isn't anyone who is going to take you to task for that or learn from your actions what is "okay" behavior. Things that start out innocuous can quickly become bad habits. While it's best to be doing things for yourself and your personal relationship with Hashem, sometimes the thing that keeps you in line is something else entirely. For example, you get excited about Shabbos, because you're teaching your young child about the beauty of Shabbos. Or, you watch what you bring into your house because you're looking out for the kedusha of your home, spouse, and family. 

There is also the part where the person struggling is angry at G-d. S/he doesn't understand why s/he has to go through the tough situation, angry that G-d put him/her in these circumstances. Perhaps there's resentment too. "You're not giving me what I want, so why should I give You what You want?" Maybe s/he thinks, "I don't want to be close to You and do what You say I should, because it's not bringing me to a place where I can feel good about my life."

Additionally, like I've mentioned multiple times before, when things bring us pain, we disengage. If I can't be successful and feel productive as a member of frum society, because I can't be who I want here (married) and I don't feel like I fit in, I'm going to focus less on that and more on things that don't bring me pain. Thus, little things that perhaps I was more careful about before start falling through the cracks, because unfortunately they're no longer as important. My focus isn't the same. When you're trying to keep your head above water, the little gray areas don't end up mattering as much.

Another interesting idea why people become "less frum" as they go through challenges, is when people feel like they don't have control, they often flounder in this need for control. Take an anorexic for example. A lot of people that develop an eating disorder do so because there is something in their lives they cannot control, and this is an attempt to control something, anything. People who are going through a struggle flout rules and regulations as a means to gain more control in their lives, because they're wrestling with this need to control something. 

Going through tough times is an opportunity for tremendous growth and strengthening one's relationship with G-d. That isn't always the easiest thing though, and sometimes it becomes about holding onto that relationship with Him even if you cannot be at the overall frumkeit level you were before.

Disconcerting Dichotomy

Perhaps there is something that I can't think of, for I'm having a hard time coming up with events or situations that elicit the stark dichotomy of emotions that a wedding (or other such simcha) does. Where else is there quite such disparate emotions being experienced at once? While some people present are over the moon with joy, others, such as older single siblings, relatives, friends, are experiencing uttermost pain.

A friend of mine brought up this point as we stood around at a friend of our's younger sibling's wedding. Having attended a classmate's wedding earlier this week (having to see how all her classmates have moved on with life years ago and she's still stuck) and her younger sibling's wedding a few months ago, she is well acquainted with the feeling. What should be incredibly happy is so hard and so painful.

I'm sure there's some shame that's behind this, a feeling of deviating from the norm by no fault of our own. It's also about how this simcha rubs what we don't have, and what we can't be, in our faces. Even if we don't think poorly of ourselves because of it, there is a small part that wonders why aren't we worthy to be married or why it's like this.

It's crazy how circumstances or status can change so much. We could be so happy for the baalei simcha if we were just not in this position at this point in our lives. If I was married, I would be so happy for the person getting married. I wish I could be regardless, but I just can't. I hate that.

The Wedding: Shaken, Not Stirred

Happy for you, but sad for me. I wish I could rejoice fully, I really really do, but it's just hard for me. Your simcha, by no means your fault, causes me pain. It rubs what I'm going through in my face, and it's compounded by how at the same time I'm losing you and the close connection we had. It isn't the same anymore when you've switched over to the other side.

Weddings are also a breeding ground of insensitivity on everyone else's part. I just want to enjoy, as much as I can, and not be constantly reminded that I'm single, and older than the kallah. Perhaps it feels like an elephant in the room, or like we're ignoring something significant, but honestly, being single isn't my identity. It's nice that someone has this idea or that for me, but truthfully, I don't want to hear about it here, especially if nothing is done to follow up and make something happen with the idea.

The how-to's of wading through seem to include the head-nodding without really listening to the shidduch blabber, gluing yourself to someone who can act as your buffer or bodyguard when things get to be too much, and of course an adult beverage. Straight up is fine; I'll take it neat if I have to. A shot or two works, or a few cocktails –– shaken, not stirred.

Switching Over to the Other Side

Once you've been somewhere dark, you make a promise to yourself to not be like those that made your life miserable when you were down, once you get to the other side. Sometimes you stick to it, and sometimes you forget. It's sort of like making note of all the mistakes your parents made and vowing to never treat your children like that. It's also about watching your friends who suffered with you for a long time until they got married seem to forget what it was like to be single and start to treat you like the rest of your married friends do.

How quickly people forget.

It isn't per se a bad thing either. It's bracha, really, to forget pain. It's the only way that someone can move on...and so quickly fall into that role that unknowingly causes their single friends pain. They forgot what it was like when someone said "x" or treated them like "y."

I sometimes wonder what type of friend I'll be when I finally get engaged/married. I'd like to think that I'll be sensitive and not hurt anyone, but then I understand why it's hard. Will I be that floaty excited kallah? I really hope so. Will I be so focused on my marriage the first couple of months we're married...at the detriment of speaking to friends daily? I hope so. Not that I want to hurt my friends, but priorities. It's a lot of work, making a marriage work, figuring out a new relationship. At this point it becomes about quality vs. quantity time with friends.

So, yes, even within this scenario, I can still be sensitive to single friends. Maybe it's hard to navigate because not everyone wants the same thing. Some may want to know details and be involved in the whole engagement, while others don't want to hear any details. There's no harm in asking, is there, trying to do what feels best for your single friends? I guess I want to try really hard to be one of those engaged/married friends that doesn't forget this and doesn't say and do hurtful things.

Resilience

Within the frum community it is not uncommon for singles, especially "older" singles to feel defined by their single status. Not only do they have to deal with not being married, they often feel like they’ve been unfairly labeled or are constantly judged by a reputation they don’t want or deserve. They sometimes struggle not to blame themselves, feel like an imposter, and they may live under the tremendous pressure of needing to prove themselves to others or themselves.

Shame itself breeds shame, and it sends someone to a dark silent lonely place, a place s/he believes s/he alone exists. (It's not a denial that other people are single too, but that no one can understand his/her pain.) When things are hard, we tend to isolate and disengage to protect ourselves. This silence and withdrawal then further compounds the feeling of distance from community and shame we're holding onto. It matters not what s/he has to offer: how smart, talented, attractive, etc. s/he is; shame condemns him/her to this place s/he suffers alone. This is a place s/he is essentially disconnected from others. Because s/he is "flawed" via this one characteristic, s/he is alone, different, in a dark silent place.

When it comes to shame, it doesn't matter if someone's "flaw" is real or perceived, if s/he carries the fault for it or not. If s/he feels different, likely s/he will internalize this feeling, especially when people stigmatize him/her because of it.

In her book, Gifts of Imperfection, Brene Brown defines shame as a “silent epidemic.” She explains that shame is universal and one of the most basic human emotions. In fact, she suggests that those who do not experience shame lack empathy and the capacity for human connection. We all experience shame. Yet, shame makes us uncomfortable, and therefore we don’t talk about it. The less we talk about something, the more it has control over us.

We beat shame by understanding what it is, recognizing what is triggering it, connecting with others and sharing our story, our struggles, our "flaw" that makes us different. Says Brown, “When we bury the story, we forever stay the subject of the story. If you own the story, you get to write the ending.”

Brown draws on current resilience research to sum up what makes people resilient. She purports that:

1. Resilient people are resourceful and have good problem-solving skills. 
2. They are more likely to seek help. 
3. They believe that there is always something they can do that will help them to manage their feelings and cope with adversity. 
4. They have social support available to them. 
5. They are connected with others, such as family or friends.

I was recently talking about this with someone, how the more resilient you are, the more you're okay to share your story (and vice versa), and you recognize that people's judgements don't change your identity. They only affect you as much as you let them. 

The person I was talking to mused that this ability to be vulnerable and open up is born out of struggle. This recognition, a maturity if you will, the awareness that it doesn't really matter what people think, comes from going through something difficult and coming out, however battered, on the other side. Perhaps once you've been through all that, someone's appraisal of you pales in comparison. Maybe through the process of coping you realize that what people think doesn't change anything. And perhaps we realize that we need people, this connection. 

Sharing our struggles with others is how empathy works. (And empathy busts shame.) Rarely does a specific response from anyone make a hardship you're going through better, but what makes it bearable is connecting with others, knowing you're not alone. It's the hand extended to pull you out of that dark lonely hole.

Emotional Memories

Have you ever heard a song playing and you were transported back to a specific time and place, overcome with a rush of emotions and memories? Many different studies, such as this one, explain how memories and music are linked, thus music has the potential to store and trigger not only a basic memory, but the emotions wrapped up in said memory.

Sights/places and even smells and tastes can trigger memories as well, but there is something about music that is infinitely more powerful in bringing up emotional memories.

For me, there's one particular song that I couldn't listen to for quite some time after the big break up. Even now, years later, when I hear it I still feel a little gut punched. I remember the first time that I heard the song; I was somewhere, a restaurant, maybe a hotel bar/lounge, on a date with the guy the song later came to represent, well, him and our relationship.

It was a messy one, a relationship in which there were a few stops and starts. One where, in hindsight, we sort of knew we were wrong for each other, but neither of us were willing to call it quits. Not only did we often hear the song playing while we were together, it sort of became our story –– every single lyric applied to us. I think it will be a long time before I can hear the song and not think about him or our relationship/break up(s).

At least I no longer panic when I hear it. I don't feel slightly nauseous or start shaking. I don't get sad or angry anymore. I bet if I listen to it on repeat I could probably get rid of that rush of emotion it triggers, sort of like exposure therapy.

Places I don't normally go and I was first there on a date (with someone who mattered) will do this to me too, but in much milder version. Those memories are sort of, "Oh yeah, so-and-so took me here." Music just brings a tidal wave of emotions.

It's "Clarity" by Zedd, by the way. I know you were wondering.

Singles Awareness Day

Valentine's Day, which according to Google, has Christian and Roman origins, is a day of romance when people exchange candy, gifts, cards, and/or flowers with their special someone. For the rest of us, just remember, you're no more single on the 14th of February than you are every other day of the year.

While roses and hearts are red, this "holiday" is mostly about green. Also according to Google and some probably inaccurate statistic, it's the day of the most candy and flower sales in the US.  It's basically one of those "holidays" that was created by greeting card companies.

Days like Valentine's Day might make single people feel sad for themselves, but the good news is that on February 15th all that chocolate that the stores didn't sell is discounted! Go get yourself some chocolate and call it a day.

Things I’ve Gained From Not Getting Married Right Away

It's easy to lament over all the things that are difficult regarding being single. It's harder to recognize that there are positive aspects as well, things we would have missed out on had we gotten married right away. I was talking this over with a friend recently, and we decided to compile thoughts from various "older" singles on this topic. Below is the beginning of this list.

• I've had multiple opportunities to connect with and increase my reliance on HK”BH.
• I have the flexibility to pursue interests/hobbies (ex: playing an instrument, working out, arts, travel).
• I've gained increased empathy, learning how to better relate with others who are lacking/struggling. 
• I gained understanding of myself through this process of meeting people, seeing what does and doesn't work for me and why.
• I gained understanding of others, other personalities and hashkafos.
• I get to travel/vacation/see exotic places.
• I'm learning patience and flexibility. 
• I'm learning to trust that there is a Master Plan greater than any plans I could have made.
• I got to finish my degree with menuchas hanefesh, being able to make it a priority, and not having to worry about financial pressure or a spouse/family.
• I've fostered connections/relationships with a lot of different people I wouldn’t have had I had my own home/family.
• I had the flexibility to figure out which field/job is right for me, because I didn’t have financial pressure.
• I got to not only figure out who I am, but once I know who I am, I can work on improving me.
• I've learned that there are many ways to serve the Eibishter. I've realized that if I am not married yet, that is by His Will. 
• I gained recognition that my value is not tied to an event that is beyond my control.
• I'm learning how to react to situations with the proper attitude.
• Because I have been on the receiving end of so many hurtful words, I decided I don't ever want to do that to anyone.
• Once I would have believed something was another's "fault," now I've gained the clarity that we don't know why things are.
• I've gained so much more compassion for others; having to struggle with this pain has taught me to be kind to everyone who is struggling.
• I became so much more independent and open-minded. 
• Being single has given me the opportunity to try to find meaning in so many different things. I notice and recognize so much more now.
• I have the financial freedom and flexibility to make big purchases and take frequent and grand vacations, to live large and take risks.
• I've met a lot of cool people and learned a lot from them.
• I've been on some really cool dates, having some experiences and going some places I never would have had I married my first guy.
• I've learned the importance of self-care having to take care of myself. 
• I've learned to parent myself and to be a capable adult. Stepping off the "conveyor belt" forced me to do so.
• I've had to figure out how to cope with pain and challenge, and in doing so, I've gotten stronger. It's lent me more confidence in my ability to cope with adversity in general. 
• I've learned that I am accountable to myself. I can rely on others, yet be fully responsible for myself.
• I've learned that it really doesn't matter what people think. Their thoughts don't define who I am. If I don't or can't live up to their expectations, it doesn't change my identity.
• I've learned how much following up with someone makes a difference. Until I was in shidduchim I didn't realize how much it means when someone gets back to you about something and how it can sting when they don't.
• Meeting a lot of people and having various interactions with them has taught me about my needs and what makes me feel secure and insecure.
• I've gained some ground in the ability to see that my life, however fragmented it may seem to me, is a complete story, and I'm merely living the beginning.
• I'm learning (that I have to and) how to create my place within a society that seems to not know how to relate to those who don't follow the conventional path.
• I've gained the realization that life is a process and the best things come to those who wait (hopefully).
• I learned how we have to dance in the rain, make the most of difficult situations.
• I've gained relationship skills via learning how to understand and connect with various individuals, what things to do and what to avoid.
• I've learned that I'm stronger than I think, and I can deal with a lot.
• I learned to better cope with rejection, how most of the time it’s not personal, and how I can avoid letting it drag me down by recognizing this.
• I’ve gained sensitivity and tact, learning how and what to say or not to say to people in difficult situations.
• I'm learning how we're all different and we don't have to follow the same path in life.
• From the experiences that I’ve had with shadchanim or just other random people, I’ve gained pointers on how to be genuine and caring, what to do and what not to do.
• I had the opportunity to be there when my younger siblings were growing up. Had I gotten married right away we wouldn't have lived in the same house and had the same close relationship most probably.
• Because I have few financial obligations, I was able to already pay off my car and school loans. People are stuck paying these for years when they have many other bills supporting a family.

Behind the Smokescreen –– Single at a Simcha

Is it me, or is it everyone else? I just feel like it's all so fake –– the air kisses, the half hugs, the exuberant mazel tovs. No one really cares, or am I just projecting? I guess there's a bit of depersonalization going on here too. It's a subconscious defense mechanism.

It wasn't always like this. I mean, I've always hated vorts, kiddushim, shmorgs at weddings. They're these small talk schmoozefests where you're sort of just hanging around hoping there's someone there you know to talk to, while everyone is standing about stuffing their faces. Part of it is that I think it's sort of disgusting for people to feed from a buffet like it's a trough. Points to those who fill up their plates and go sit down somewhere. Also, there's just too much small talk. As extroverted as I am, I hate having to talk to random people, smiling, pretending to be interested in "catching up" that consists of people asking what's doing and if I'm still in school. I haven't been in school for quite awhile. If you don't know what to talk about just say hi and move along. I do have a life, you know, even if I'm not married like you. All the "mazel tovs," "This is so exciting," "I'm so happy," ...not. I wish I was, believe me, I do. It's just too hard for me to be right now. 

It's stupid, really. This is so not about me, and did I not have my own pain I was wallowing in, I could be completely happy for you. But I do, so I can't, and I hate that. 

Emotionally I'm done. Mentally I'm drained. Spiritually I feel dead. Physically I smile.

So, yes, I'm pretending. I hope everyone else isn't too. 

Stigmatized

This week's Mishapacha magazine featured an article written by a single guy speaking out regarding his struggle with shidduchim due to his mental health issues. He writes about how although his mental health is currently stable and he's managing his symptoms well, he's finding that girls are rejecting him when he discloses this baggage to them. He talks about how he didn't choose to have this nisayon and how it's really disheartening that he's "quality" in every other aspect but dropped like a hot potato when he reveals his diagnosis to his dates. 

I've posted about baggage and stigma before, but I think this is a prime example of what it looks like in the real world.

We need more people like the protagonist of this story to speak out, perhaps to normalize such challenges. We all have struggles in life, but mental health issues in particular scare the frum community. I believe that one of the biggest causes for this is the average layperson’s ignorance regarding mental health. If we understood a diagnosis, symptoms, what to expect from (a person suffering from) an illness or situation, and a possible progression of the illness, this would reduce fear and resulting stigma. If people recognized that it's more common than we would like to think, that someone's mental illness isn't a character flaw or an identity, perhaps more people would realize that it no more defines someone than physical illness or any other challenge in life.

Personally,  I would like to think that someone coming into a relationship with an issue that he’s identified, has struggled to overcome/cope with, has learned mechanisms that help him to deal with it, has gained a greater understanding of himself, human psychology, and the world, and doesn’t take life for granted, is far more equipped to handle marriage and the challenges life will continue to throw at him. Life is never easy, and if it's been smooth coasting up until now, he's in for a shock at some point. Anybody can develop health problems at any time, and someone who can look you in the eye and tell you about his struggles and what he’s done about them is someone we should have a lot of respect for and be more comfortable committing our life to. Every situation obviously needs to be assessed on its own, but thinking about all the people that should be in therapy/on medication who aren’t, this is clearly someone who is responsible and is taking care of himself.

I'm pretty certain that the majority of frum singles would stay far away from someone with any diagnosis, but I'd like to think that there are many mature open-minded individuals that would not. His diagnosis is only an aspect of who he is; it doesn’t, and shouldn’t, define him. The person he ends up marrying will appreciate what he’s been through and what it has made him. Those that reject him aren't right for him anyway, because he needs someone who understands the challenges he's had to deal with. He will find a girl that wants someone who doesn’t just breeze through life taking it for granted and won't know what to do the first time he's faced with adversity. It doesn't have to mean that this person has mental health issues as well, just someone who has a greater appreciation for what it means to have to struggle sometimes.

Mazel Tov?

What happens when out of the blue someone, once thought of as a good friend, messages a group you're part of that she's engaged? Not even a personal text or phone call.

Shades of freeze.

It's okay, really, because clearly the message is that we're not really friends anymore. I can't even be upset, but it does bother me when I'm expected anyway to come play the "good friend" role at the following festivities. You can't have your cake and eat it too; it doesn't really work like that.

I'm tired of making everyone else happy and doing what they want when they don't give a darn about my feelings and what I want.

Sending My Meal Back

Maybe my order is complicated, sort of like when you substitute regular fries for yucca fries, ciabatta in place of baguette, truffle aioli versus garlic mayo, hold the tomatoes, etc. When my meal arrives and a few of the instructions were confused or forgotten, where is the point at which the food should be sent back? If it's a small thing, like I might have to pick out the raw onions from the salad or request a different dipping sauce, perhaps it's salvageable. Yet, if the server brings a sandwich instead of a salad is that enough? What if I asked for the sauce on the side and the dish came drenched in it?

It's easy to compromise when it's about small things, when they aren't deal-breakers. However, when there are so many things that aren't as requested, can a redeeming factor be found? Sometimes it's about adjusting expectations, but other times, the food just isn't edible.

Perhaps you've been accused of being a picky eater or a food snob, but remember, you're the one who has to eat it, so you have every right to be choosy.

Being picky can be a reason why someone isn't married, sure, as often people are choosy about ridiculous things that don't matter in the long run. Yet, there are certain things that are non-negotiable. If there isn't a connection or you don't like the person, for example, no matter how many other things "work," the person isn't for you. That's not being finicky. We're choosing a life partner, not a meal that you'll forget about tomorrow.

Driving With the Top Down

The world looks different from behind a half windshield –– the wind barely shielded, balmy air causing my long hair to dance merrily around me; the wind whispers as it rushes by, softly caressing my face. The sound is louder, the colors brighter.

There's a thrill to being awake, wanting to feel, really being in every moment of life.

We often shut ourselves off to our feelings, our reality, because it's too painful. We don't want to feel. Going through the motions, isolating emotionally, daily grind, feeling numb. Is this genuinely living? And, will this ever really change?

No matter what the challenge is at hand, there will undoubtedly always be something. We're not put in the world as finished products, and in order to grow, we need to be challenged. Does anything grow in the dessert where there is continuous sun? Look how lush rainforests are! There's a peirush on the beginning of Shir HaShirim that talks about how during Bayis Shleishi Hashem will praise us as we simultaneously praise Him. There has never been such a concept up until this point in history, because we praise G-d when things are good for us. He praises us when we're working and growing. That doesn't happen when things are good.

We all cope differently with hardship. While some people escape and withdraw, others stay and fight. Either way, it's a battle. Because we're busy fighting, sometimes we lose sight of the scenery and hyper-focus on the battlefield. Every so often it's important to take a minute and smell the roses.

You don't need to be behind the wheel of a convertible to see life differently, just take off those everyday glasses through which you see the world and rub off some of their grime. That might take a different location, a change of pace, some time alone without distractions, or a simple modification in perspective/attitude.

It's easy for things to get dulled when we don't use them. Don't let every day be the same. Try living life in color.

Singing Some Songs II

This starts here

Credit to @singledoutwarrior

TTO: Maybe [Annie]

Maybe far away or maybe real nearby
He may be learning in yeshiva
He may be a working guy

Maybe in a day
Or maybe in a while
He may be going through his long list
Looking right at your profile

Betcha he's tall
Betcha he's slim
Betcha he's got all the qualities within

Betcha he's good, why wouldn't he be
His only mistake was not finding me

So maybe now it's time
Maybe when I date
He'll be there calling me baby
Maybe

TTO: John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt

Yaakov Yitzchok Yehuda Yoeli Tzvi
His name could be my name too
Whenever we go out the shadchan always shouts
Yaakov Yitzchok Yehuda Yoeli Tzvi - which basheret will it be?
Ba da da da dun

A Tall Euphoria To Go Repost

If only we could bottle happiness. It'd be quiet the commodity. Wouldn't it be great if we could get one tall euphoria to go? How transient our feelings, how ephemeral satisfaction and pleasure. It works both ways though. We're built to be resilient. We forget joy; we forget pain. I'd love to just hold onto the chilled feeling of an awesome relaxing vacation even after returning to normal life. Making it last I guess is about living in the moment, making memories, taking lots of pictures, and enjoying every second. I pay attention to what's important now and deal with the stresses of real life when they come up later... When it gets too difficult though, I'd love to be to have that to go cup filled with piping hot pick me up.

Phase or Lifestyle?

Pop psychology calls them safety behaviors, those practices we develop to cope with whatever challenge at hand to reduce anxiety and fear. Escapism turned out to be great for me at this point in my shidduch career. The problem with safety behaviors is how they stick around even after we don't need them anymore. It is true for the adult who was taken advantage of or bullied as a child and now doesn't trust that anyone has his/her good in mind, but it's also true for a general lifestyle that you get used to.

My new attitude, removing myself mentally (as much as possible) from tedious shidduch life has proven effective in dealing with my negative feelings surrounding it. (I'm actually not sure it's sustainable, but it's working short-term for sure.) I think disengagement at this stage is natural, because it's normal and healthy to gravitate towards things that make us feel productive. Focusing on work, hobbies, and vacations, makes this stage in my life so much more tolerable.

As I was cruising down the highway in my wine red convertible rental, enjoying the wind whipping through my hair, relishing the sun on my face and the warm weather in the dead of winter, I started wondering if taking frequent vacations and splurging on indulgent things is setting myself up for failure. Am I creating a lifestyle that isn't maintainable?

I obviously want to milk being single at this age (and working at a flexible job) for all it's worth. I won't always be able to jet to tropical destinations whenever I feel like it. I won't always be able to drop a few hundred bucks to do/buy what I feel like. Yet, there has to be some benefit of not being married. Do what I can now, cross them off my bucket list, right?

Will doing these things make me want/expect these things in the future? It isn't a lifestyle that I need or necessarily want for my family. Am I getting further and further away from what is important?

On Empaths and Narcissists Repost

This is one of my favorite articles on this topic...and my own reflections.

Dating, life, and even blogging has taught me a lot about myself and many different types of people.

It's Just Coffee

The shidduch equivalent to "getting drinks" is "grabbing coffee." Although, it doesn't always involve actual coffee. It's a short, no commitment, almost pre-date to ascertain whether the two parties would be superficially compatible and a means to determine whether they should attempt dating. It's generally utilized when either party happens to be in the city of the other when s/he resides elsewhere, or when the idea is likely a shot in the dark.

Most recently I agreed to meet a guy for coffee, because it was last minute and I was pretty sure he wasn't for me. He actually took me to Starbucks, and while he harped on the fact that his OJ was hand-squeezed and asked me what it actually means to "live outside your comfort zone" and "try something new daily," we talked about his life ambitions. I think it was pretty clear to us that it wasn't a shidduch, and thus a one hour almost painless coffee date and we went our separate ways. (Nothing against him, really nice guy, just not a shidduch.)

While first dates should never be long anyway, a coffee date is helpful in scenarios where there hasn't been any extensive checking into or analysis if this person "is the type." It isn't a big deal, and perhaps more first dates should be like this.

The other side to this is what if someone travels to meet a girl or vice versa, it seems silly to just spend an hour with the person. There's also more that can be gleaned from a longer date, getting to know a little bit more about the person.

Sometimes this idea backfires too in other ways. I once travelled somewhere for a date, I think I spent Shabbos at relatives and went out Motzei Shabbos. The date was a non-starter, and while I had a meeting Sunday morning and plans with a friend Sunday afternoon, this friend decided to ask her husband to set a date up for me Sunday night, a coffee date. We went out, we had a nice time, extending the date a few hours past that requisite one hour, and we both told the go-between that we were interesting in proceeding. We exchanged resumes, and we made up that we would look into each other and continue going out...or at least that was the impression I got. After me waiting a week, the guy got back to my friend's husband and told him that another suggestion came up for him in his city, so he's going to go ahead with that.

I think the situation was a little confusing. Had he not wanted to go out again, he could have said so upfront. I waited a week for him to say he was going to pursue something else. And so, coffee dates can be confusing, because with this "no commitment" deal, expectations aren't always understood. It's important to be upfront from the beginning what each party is expecting. Is it really "no commitment," or if it goes well are you both committing to an actual date?

Sometimes it can just be coffee. It can take the pressure out of that first date/starting something new.

Shidduch Reid: The Talk Demystified Part Two

Read Part One here.

"Are you available/Are you busy?" ––  In shidduch vernacular, this question refers to whether someone is currently involved in a shidduch. It is usually asked by someone that would like to suggest an idea, yet it's often used by nosy people prying into a single's life.

"I'm busy right now" –– This is the turn of phrase that a guy or girl in the parsha uses to let others know that they are currently involved in a shidduch, ie. dating someone, sometimes too busy for other life or friends. Although, "being busy" can also mean that s/he merely "gave someone a yes" and is waiting to hear whether s/he would like to go out. It may be used to avoid an unwanted suggestion, thus people may wonder if someone is "busy busy" or merely "busy." "Very busy" means someone is dating seriously.

"Getting serious" –– While used in the world at large, when referring to a shidduch it has a similar connotation, but more likely points to the couple moving towards engagement. This is when older single siblings and sometimes friends start to panic. Sometimes friends understand a friend is entering this status as s/he becomes seemingly unreachable by all means of communication. This stage can begin as early as date three or four or as late as date twenty or so.

"Saying/giving a no" –– The opposite of "giving a yes," this means that someone rejects a shidduch. It can refer to when the idea is suggested or after going on a date s/he chooses not to continue with the individual. Sometimes it's clear and definite, other times it takes a lot of overthinking and analyzing to come to this conclusion.

"Not for me/not a shidduch" –– This means someone does not think a potential match is suited for him/her, usually not within the same shidduch point category.

"DOA" –– This acronym stands for "Dead On Arrival," used in reference to when it's clear a date is not for you the moment you set eyes on him/her; considered derogatory.

"One and done" –– As it suggests, this means a shidduch lasts one date and then is over. This is when you might scratch your head and wonder what the shadchan was thinking.

"A tekufah" –– This refers to a dating stint, a time in which someone spent dating someone and all that involved. It's an era in one's life that usually leaves an imprint, one that more often than not sends said person to therapy.

"Quality guy/girl/A catch" –– This is someone who allegedly has it all together and has so many awesome characteristics often irrelevant to marriage.

"S/he flipped out/S/he's flaming" –– This refers to someone who, usually due to a spiritual awakening, who has swung to the extreme right; s/he has the potential to normalize after s/he cools off.

"Pareve date" –– The type of date that brings you no closer to clarity and often brings frustrated feelings of ambiguity.

"Should I push it?" –– "Pushing" a shidduch involves putting pressure on a party generally by embellishing upon positive attributes to get a desired answer (usually for the person to "give a yes").

"What are we up to/Where are we holding?" –– This is an often anxiety-provoking query broached when one is thinking about taking the relationship to the next level or by one just wondering what the other person is thinking about him/her.

"Will s/he travel" –– This question is asked regarding someone who is currently residing in the tristate area on a willingness to venture outside his/her daled amos (or for the person living outside of the central hub of Jewish life to travel in).

"Taking a break" –– This refers to either taking a vacation from the shidduch hamster wheel, or it can involve two parties who are currently dating putting their relationship on pause to get some much needed space to assess their feelings for each other (or lack thereof).

"Drop the shadchan" –– This occurs during the process of "getting serious," when the young man and woman decide to actually try to communicate on their own and no longer use the shadchan to let the other party know they will be late for a date.

"It's unofficial" –– This is the point in the shidduch when the couple has decided that they are going to get engaged, but he has not yet proposed. This is the stage in which all important people in their respective lives should be informed of the impending engagement, if they haven't been already.