Parshas Vayeitzei

(The Segulah of Learning Zera Shimshon)

The Zera Shimshon asks two questions:

The pasuk tells us that Hashem opened Leah's womb 'because she was unloved.' What is the connection between being 'unloved' and having children?

And secondly, the Torah tells us that Rochel saw that she hadn't borne children for Yaakov and she was jealous of her sister Leah. Is is possible that Rochel, who was such a great woman, the woman who allowed her sister to marry her own chosson before she did, was jealous?

To add to this second question, why does the Torah specify that she hadn't borne children for Yaakov? Why does it mention Yaakov here?

The Zera Shimshon brings a Gemara in Yevamos (64a) that explains that the Imahos were barren so that their husbands, the Avos, would daven for them, because Hashem desires the prayers of the holy ones.

Leah recognized this and realized that if Yaakov was going to daven for any of his wives, it would be Rochel. Leah felt unloved, and because of this Hashem gave her children.

Yaakov saw this, and once he had children from Leah he didn't feel the need to daven for Rochel. In his mind Leah had children without tefillah, so the Imahos couldn't be barren because Hashem wanted their husbands to daven.

Yaakov perceived that Sarah gave birth after her name was changed, and Rivka didn't have children right away after leaving home so the nations of the world wouldn't think she had children because of Lavan's blessing. He didn't see this pattern of the Avos having to daven so their wives would have children.

Because Yaakov did not think that Rochel was barren in order for him to daven, Rochel believed this as well, and she figured that having children was based on the strength of their own merits. And this is why she was jealous of Leah. She believed that Leah had more merits than her, for she had children while Rochel did not.

This jealousy was a kinas sofrim. This is a positive jealousy, wanting to be better, being jealous of someone else's good deeds, etc.

Rochel said to Yaakov, "Give me children, otherwise I am dead!" Indeed, if she believed having children was based on her own merits, and she did not possess the necessary merit to deserve a child, a sinner is compared to a dead person even when they are alive.

Thus, Rochel implored Yaakov to daven for her to have a child.

Source: Zera Shimshon Parshas Vayetzei

We're All Eating Dirt

We're all eating dirt. Maybe my dirt, from where you're sitting, looks like chocolate ice cream, but it's not. Because my dating life is strife with stories and yours seems so boring compared to that, mine really isn't that much easier. In fact, I think it's probably harder.

You think that I "always get the guy," have more dates than you, have longer dating stints, actual relationships when you don't. How does that help me? It actually hurts a lot more than not going out at all.

Maybe yours is external pain while mine is internal. I mean, there's no way to measure how much something hurts. Maybe your situation seems like it's worse to you. You can't see my pain. Everything looks fun and flamboyant. It's not, believe me.

Are you jealous of me that the woman sitting next me on the plane last weekend talked my ear off the whole flight? Why not? Exactly, it's not pleasurable, even if it was attention. Neither is dating a bunch of wrong guys. It's actually really painful.

We all have our own challenges when it comes to dating, and life, and no one is better off than the next. Why are you resentful of me? We're both just doing what we know to get married. I'm not better off than you.

Single and Ready to Flamingle: The Pitfalls of Singles' Events

While I addressed the general drawbacks here re singles' events, I feel the need to revisit the topic and add a few more hazards to be aware of.

While this first one isn't necessarily something I would generally include in such a post, as it's a bit of a different flavor than my other "things to be wary of," I'm adding it in, because I know a few people who would appreciate it.

Do yourself a favor and find out if your ex (or anyone you've previously dated whom you don't want to run into) is going to be there. If s/he will be, it might actually ruin the whole thing for you. It can make it really uncomfortable, and you won't be able to be yourself the whole time.

Broader picture, how helpful is it when after an event you get feedback that a majority of the guys/girls are interested in you? Especially when they're not for you? So maybe you're good at making small talk, meeting new people, making people feel comfortable. It doesn't mean you actually want to date the guys/girls you ended up having extended conversations with. So yes, the conversation was smooth and easy, but so are the majority of conversations you have with people in general.

I know that I need one-on-one time to connect with someone. Preferably someone I've heard a bit about and know that the "on paper" makes sense. Talking with someone, even someone I may have an initial "click" with, doesn't mean marriage potential.

Often, someone you meet on your own (however much "on your own" an event really is) equals a dating relationship without a shadchan, at a point in time in the relationship that there probably should be a go-between. I'm a big advocate for being an adult and fostering communication between the two parties themselves, but sometimes it doesn't work out great. It's really helpful to have a shadchan involved that can help facilitate marriage-minded dating and assist with issues that come up.

As per personal experience, this has gotten me into situations where I should never have had to explain to the guy himself why I didn't think things were shyuch. After one or two dates it's not even really helpful. It's more hurtful than anything else, because generally that means it's something foundational or no click or whatever. Meaning, it's not really about the person, it's about how it's just not a good fit. I feel like that hurts more coming from the person herself/himself than through a third party.

Another pitfall is that everyone at the event is highly aware of what guy is/was talking to what girl and vice versa. There's jealousy and all-around nosiness, maybe even competition. Everyone wants to know what is happening. Maybe you wanted to speak to the guy or girl someone else is talking to. Maybe you're envious because you didn't hit it off with anyone.

It almost feels like The Bachelor. Too much drama. Does it make any sense for someone to say it's "insensitive" for someone to talk to the same guy/girl ("hijack" him/her) for an hour? Isn't that what you're supposed to do at these things? I'm truly sorry for you (not being sarcastic, sincere in this), if it wasn't as easy for you to strike up conversation with someone you were interested in, but why take that out on people who did?

We're all single. No one is better off than the other. Does there really have to be this competition? If  your friend connected with someone and you didn't, s/he is not taking anything away from you.

I guess that would be a drawback as well. If someone isn't great on his/her feet, doesn't do well with small talk, doesn't make a particularly positive first impression, perhaps these events are not for him/her.

And finally, even on the guys' side there's hock. I actually had a guy randomly sit down next to me and say, "You're the girl with the blog?" So yes, I did mention I blog as my "fun fact" during a speed-dating activity. He wasn't there at that table though. Maybe it was just this crowd, but I could imagine (and hope) that there's less yenting (even when guys swap names and details about their dates) when dating happens one on one and not in a big mixed crowd.

Maybe events are helpful for some people, but even if they're entertaining or fun, they're not helpful for me.

Game On

All the players playing this round have been dealt their cards. Your aim is to play them in the best fashion you see fit.

You can use your cards to help others. You can use your cards to hurt others. Other people may look at your cards and be jealous of them or get hurt because you're the one holding them. It may be best to keep your cards held as close to your vest as possible.

Play wisely, because you only have the right here and right now. It will feel like each round is all you have. You may get another round to play, or you may not.

I officially hate this game, and I don't want to play it anymore. I want out. I want to know who will win. I can't play anymore; it's not fun. It never was.

It's not just the actual game that's annoying, but everything that's involved in it. Almost every day there's something new to add to this list; this week's tops:

I hate that everyone just assumes that I know all the eligible singles around my age, or at least know someone who does. When I say "Nope, don't know him," please don't ask, "Do you know anyone who knows him or has dated him?"

I hate that people get jealous and spiteful and that it hurts them when I'm dating someone, get the attention from the cute guy at an event, or get a million random pointless suggestions. I'm not married either; there's nothing to be jealous of.

I hate the random random suggestions that I get and the comments I receive when I politely decline them. No, just because he's around my age and wears pants and a yarmulka doesn't mean I'm picky if I say I don't want to date him.

I hate being the heartbreaker. I enjoy connecting with people, hopefully bringing out positive qualities in them, and having a good time together. It doesn't always mean that that shared experience will end in marriage. There's so much more that needs to be there too.

The second-guessing. I hate the second-guessing. I used to trust my gut. Usually if something feels wrong, it is wrong. It's really hard when I start feeling like maybe my gut feelings aren't valid. I never want to be in the position where I'm asking G-d to send me my bashert, He does, and I say "no thank you." I used to be able to say with confidence that every match I declined I knew almost 100% that he was not for me. I hate when I feel like I just don't know.

I need to figure out what my lifelines are in this game. How do I get through it when I feel like I have nothing left, like my reserves are empty, and I'm all alone all tapped out?

Dancing Round and Round in Circles

Simchas Torah this year was quite the experience.

I'm always struck by how beautiful it is that we're dancing like this for the Torah. The actual tefillos of the hakafos, the lyrics to the tunes we sing, the niggunim, the energy...it's pretty inspiring.

The only thing I can compare it to is a Hachnsas Sefer Torah in Eretz Yisroel where streets are blocked off and there are throngs of people and tons of music and candy. The kavod we give to Torah. The excitement we have for Torah. We forget it when it's not in our faces.

This year, as I was surveying the lebidig scence, it transported me back (as it usually does) to a time when I was child, probably two or three, sitting on my dad's shoulders as he danced round and round on Simchas Torah, pausing to kiss the sifrei torah as we passed someone holding one. Later, when I was too old to be on the men's side, I remember watching my father and my brothers, and perhaps younger siblings, dancing for the Torah.

I was reminded too of the Simchas Torah the year that I was in seminary. Since Simchas Torah is a different day for chutznikim, our Simchas Torah was just chutznikim and very chutzniki. The women, behind a mechitzah of course, were dancing too. I remember feeling a little weird about it, but I got over it pretty quickly and got in on the action.

I wish I could say that I was left with all these positive feelings this yuntif. And maybe I should stop this post here. However, I guess what makes my writing appealing is my candor and thus relate-ability.

Daytime hakafos were pretty hard, I have to say. So many more kids. So many strollers parked haphazardly, no one caring that it was impossible to get by. So many couples younger than me with kids. Mothers with their kids who maybe stayed in shul for kol hanearim, but couldn't stop talking with their children during the entire krias hatorah and mussaf (and this is in a shul where there is usually no talking at all during davening/leining).

I don't think I have to explain why this was hard. Everything that I want to have but don't yet just sort of slapped me in the face. Even just celebrating Torah. It's not my mitzvah to learn. My connection to Torah is different. I want someone with whom I can share this joy in learning, in Torah, through/with. Yes, I know I can learn Torah (and I plan on it), but it isn't the same when I'm not a mutzveh v'oseh. I can't delight the same way in accomplishing during a good seder, a good sugya, whatever.

I just hope I remember to not put myself through that again. I don't think I can handle another Simchas Torah in this shul if I'm still single next year.

And So He Lives Happily Ever After

"I just need to take things slow. Marriage is a huge step; and I don't know if I'm ready for it," says the guy who dates you for a long time, breaks up with you, and is engaged shortly thereafter to the next girl. We've discussed this phenomenon here previously as "rebounding," but now that I'm reading this book about unrequited love, I have a whole new perspective. Bear with me.

I'll back up just a little. Samara O'Shea writes about how when someone ends a relationship you were not ready for to be over, she suggests that this person is doing you a favor. In all type of these scenarios there are so many explanations of what is happening there. Perhaps s/he's not fully over someone else, has a fantasy of "love" hitting him/her over the head, whatever, it doesn't really matter.

"When a problem exists in someone's head," she writes, "their head is the only place it can be solved...believing you can solve other people's problems is also a problem...if it's meant to be, it will be. In the meantime, he did you a favor."

She quotes Don Miguel Ruiz's Mastery of Love to expound on this favor.

"Explore the possibilities. Be yourself. Find a person who matches with you. Take a risk, but be honest. If it works, keep going. If it doesn't work, then do yourself and your partner a favor: Walk away; let her go. Don't be selfish. Give your partner the opportunity to find what she really wants, and at the same time give yourself the opportunity. If it's not going to work, it is better to look in a different direction. If you cannot love your partner the way she is, someone else can love her just as she is. Don't waste your time, and don't waste your partner's time. This is respect."

Often people will make statements, like the one I opened this post with, about not being ready for marriage, but then they seem to jump off that ledge pretty quickly with someone else. O'Shea believes that it just means that these people are in denial. They just don't feel it with the present relationship and use a blanket statement to describe the feeling. (They probably even believe it to be true!) When they meet that person that changes their mind about it, it feels completely different.

O'Shea brings another theory too in which she talks about how guys are like cabs. She quotes Miranda from Sex and the City episode 3x8, "When they're available their light goes on. They awake one day and decide they're ready to settle down...and they turn their light on. Next woman they pick up, boom, that's the one they'll marry...It's all about timing. You gotta get them when their light is on...They can drive around for years picking up women and not be available."

When that girl jumps into your cab just as the light goes on, it hurts. It's devastating. If you've had this happen, read O'Shea's book. She's been through this a few times, and her accounts of these stories are super validating to anyone who has been there (at least they were for me). Nurse your broken heart and let yourself be angry and sad. Remember, a healed heart is that much stronger. Mended, not broken.

It's probably apropos here to talk about what O'Shea calls the "dress rehearsal." Most of us have been there –– rehearsing in our head what we want to look like and how we want to act or what we want to say when we bump into this ex. It's probably not going to go exactly as you planned, because his/her reaction is probably not going to be as you imagined. You can write scripts regarding what you want to say, but in the moment, when you're caught off guard, it'll all probably fly out of your head. O'Shea suggests going for a sentiment rather than specific words. "Stay calm," she says, "it'll all flow from there." Decide whether you want to be cold or polite or whatever. If you feel the need to write down what you want to say, by all means do it. It'll probably change a bunch of times as you process the breakup and your emotions change. In the end you may not even want to say anything at all.

Remember, he may have moved on and you look stuck in the same place, but that's not what this encounter is about. It's merely two people who dated in the past bumping into each other. You don't know that he's happy or what's going on with him...even if he does have a beautiful wife on his arm. (And DO NOT compare yourself to her. Their relationship is not based on the externalities that you can perceive, so it's completely pointless.)

Also, your value isn't tied up in your relationship status. "He got married," O'Shea quips, "He wasn't crowned king...nothing about marriage is automatic...your life, including marriage, will be what you make of it. There are triumphant days ahead for you and disappointing days ahead for him and vice versa." More on that later. (The chapter I'm about to read is called "Unrequited in a Room Full of Requiteds.")

Stay tuned.

Loves Me...Not: Another Post About Rejection Etc.

I picked up this book the other day and started reading it out of curiosity. The book, Loves Me...Not: How to Survive (and Thrive) in the Face of Unrequited Love by Samara O'Shea, has so many, so many! good insights. I was skeptical that it would be helpful in any way, as most pop psychology/self help books usually write about things we all have learned instinctively by just being passive students of life. Yet, I was pleasantly surprised. Even without any formal education –– I think she's a writer by profession, and she'd only recently began pursuing a Masters degree in social work at the time of the book's publication –– she shares a plethora of wisdom (obviously not all her own) about love and loss and all those emotions in between.

As I read, I want to share some of the things that stand out to me with all of you. If you think any of it is interesting or speaks to you, I would suggest you track down a copy of the book and read it yourself. It's an easy and entertaining read.

One of the first things O'Shea does is reference Don Miguel Ruiz's Four Agreements. I'll outline them here briefly, but if you're not familiar with them, I'd say it's worth it for you to read up on them. They're powerful stuff...

1. Be Impeccable with your Word 

Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the Word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others. Use the power of your Word in the direction of truth and love. 

2. Don’t Take Anything Personally 

Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering. 

3. Don’t Make Assumptions 

Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness and drama. With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life. 

4. Always Do Your Best 

Your best is going to change from moment to moment; it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgment, self-abuse, and regret.

O'Shea zeroes in on number two, but I want to talk about numbers two and three. She quotes The Four Agreements to elaborate on the not taking things personally, which basically explains that people live within their own world, their own perception. The things that anybody does or says comes from the "agreements" s/he has within his or her own mind. Even if something seems very personal, even if it insults you directly, it has very little to do with you. Oftentimes it's about how something was triggered for them or a projection of their feelings and beliefs.

In a similar vein, don't make assumptions about why someone is doing or has done something. Even when you aren't in a position to ask, you must accept that you really don't know what is going on and/or why someone is doing something. We can make ourselves sick with worry, anxiety, jealousy, hatred, sadness, etc. when we assume things. We, more often times than not, won't really know why someone doesn't "want" you or why s/he isn't texting you back.

On the topic of rejection, remember that life is full of it –– personally, professionally, you name it. O'Shea offers up some guidelines to help out here.

1. Allow yourself the time to feel bad about things that didn't work out––don't rush through this. It's okay to feel let down.
2. If you made a mistake, don't criticize yourself. Call it just that––a mistake. (We all make mistakes sometimes.)
3. Recognize that the failure of things to work out isn't a reflection of your self-worth or abilities.
4. Find a lesson or three that can be taken away from the situation.
5. Put your black turtleneck on and get back out there.

You know how they all say that you need to be comfortable being alone first, and being single gives you that opportunity? That's great and all, but the want to be in a relationship, to have someone in your corner and all that good stuff, doesn't go away. O'Shea talks to this point too. Being comfortable being single doesn't mean that you don't want love/a relationship. It just means recognizing that "you're the only person you're going to wake up with every single day of your life," says O'Shea. "...You can make more authentic relationship decisions rather than fear-based ones...[working on yourself while you're alone] will enable you to love more genuinely..." It might not feel great, and you don't have to buy into the 'You have be complete on your own; It's an opportunity for you!' stuff that people in a relationship tell you. You do want to recognize though that you can use this time to your advantage. (It doesn't make you more or less single!)

O'Shea also talks about how in a relationship the only feelings you can account for are your own. What may be so super intense to you (or even just seems like a good shot), may be just causal or "pareve" to the other. She points out, as an aside, that when you are in a relationship and the other person doesn't necessarily reciprocate your emotion, it's not like it's totally for naught. She claims it's a "chance to practice taking hold of your half –– allowing yourself to feel it fully and let it be something special all by itself." She goes on to say that it's a chance to recognize that you have this capacity to love/care about someone like this and to celebrate it. You may not be able to share this passion with the other person, but you can keep it for yourself and know that it's there for some future situation.

A small note on envy, just because that's the last thing I notated so far in my reading... I know that I've felt jealous or sad/angry/jealous when an ex moved on (read: got engaged/married) or someone else who used to be in my same boat managed to get to the other side. Largely the envy comes from these someone elses having something that I want, right? O'Shea acknowledges that a lot of times this feeling is not that you want to be the other person or have what they have (after all, that person may be married but s/he has zero attraction or perhaps connection to his/her partner...), but it's about the fact that s/he has something to call his/her own. Is there something that you can do, that you have control over to call your own –– a hobby, class, volunteership, whatever? Pursue that, it will help a little.

Remember to love yourself and that everything comes down to you. No one else is to blame for what you are feeling. For real! It's much easier to blame everyone else, and it's aggravating to hear that it's about how you adjust your mindset, because it really does seem so much of the time that the things that happen around us affect our happiness. However, when you choose to take this control, you will have so much more happiness and be less subject to other people's opinions and their mood swings.

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.

Happy for You but Sad for Me

When she found herself in a position where she felt like she couldn't be happy for someone because it rubbed in her face what she didn't have, she made a point of calling me and saying, "I get how you probably felt when I got married. I'm really sorry if me getting married caused you pain. Do you forgive me for it?"

I don't feel like there's anything for me to forgive. You can't not live your life, because I'm stuck here at this Waiting Place in mine by no fault of my own. I'm not hurt by you, I'm not upset at you, I'm hurt by the situation, I'm upset at where I am...that has nothing to do with you.

I truly wish I could be completely happy for all those friends and relatives who celebrate these milestones ahead of me. It's just really hard. I feel like my joy would be that much more complete if I wasn't still here in this place trying to navigate the same crazy dating maze. (Some of them were in elementary school when I started dating!) It's hard to be as happy for other people when their happiness causes me pain simply because it reminds me that everyone else has what I want and I can't/don't have it (at least right now and don't know when I will).

It starts me down the rabbit hole of when will it be my turn, am I destined to grow old alone, where is my light at the end of the tunnel, why am I so stuck, what is wrong with me, just hurting... How do I hold onto happiness?

If Sukkos is Zman Simchaseinu, Why Does it Hurt so Much?

I guess I should consider myself lucky; all my married siblings live in Israel (and stayed there for yuntif). Plus, the one who used to argue with me about the choices I was making finally stopped. Either he's matured in his old age (not that he's that old, he just happens to have a handful of children now and other things to worry about), it happens to the best of them eventually, or he's feeling sorry for me and doesn't want to rock the boat. I hate pity, but if it helps us get along, I'll take it.

Someone asked me if I'm going to spend Sukkos in Eretz Yisroel. As if I don't have a job here I have a responsibility to and must put in some hours erev yuntif and chh"m. (Plus seems like working those times makes this easier.) But either way, the last time I was in Israel was actually a little painful for me. Don't get me wrong, I'm in love with the Land, and I have some pretty cute kiddies over there I wish I saw more often, but everyone there is...married. If they're Israeli, they're married by 17, and all the Americans, aside from the young'uns, are there with their spouse. I just don't fit in.

As much as they're special and joyous times, at this stage, Yamim Tovim hurt. They're hard. A time that's focused on family (which I obviously do not yet have), a time that everyone packs into a house that wasn't meant for a growing number of couples and their cute, but rambunctious, kids, a time that everything that I do gets disdainfully judged by sheltered and self-righteous relatives, but mostly the fact that I'm still not married gets rubbed in my face, and I try to find my place within all the gaiety.

Just because I'm here without a spouse doesn't negate that I'm an adult, just like every other adult here. That does not mean that I would like to share a room, babysit your children, or do all your errands. Please don't tell me what to do, the young marrieds (who I will add, some of which, are younger than me) don't get that treatment.

It's Shabbos, and the silverware, having just been washed, is in a jumble. Female family member in question looks at me and says, "I can't set the table with this, it's boreir. Learn the halachos." Uh, m'yad, b'yad, oichel m'toch p'soles. I have the same Bais Yaakov education as you do. I didn't forget Hilchos Shabbos just because high school was a long time ago and I went to college after seminary. You learn the halachos. "Okay, well, happy to be your Shabbos goy. I'll do it myself."

You would think that everyone's learned their lesson by now and would have ceased making comments like "Next yuntif you'll be here with your husband." I feel left out and lonely and incomplete, all without your help. Don't be an unwitting Penina; I'm in enough pain as it is.

All I want is to share in the simcha. I want a husband and children to nurture, love and support (emotionally) –– a family of my own –– instead of just watching everyone else's from the sidelines. I want to unpause my life, create a bayis with someone I cherish and respect, bring the Shechinah into our home and to our own Shabbos table. I want a chelek in Torah and to teach my kids love of Hashem and Yiddishkeit. They are all spiritually worthy goals...

On Simchas Torah as I will stand around with my (long since) married friends watching their husbands and kids whirl around celebrating something that comes from a sense of accomplishment and resulting joy, I wonder will I ever have a chance at celebrating/supporting Torah like that?

Words Spoken To Yours "Unspoken"

Of the many perils of reading frum literature...

Mishpacha magazine, in their Family First supplement, runs a column called "Words Unspoken," which provides a forum for random individuals to vent or share personal insights with Mishapacha's readership about subjects which apparently they're too reticent to actually voice in real life. Or they just need a soapbox.

The Sukkos edition features a letter written by "A Former Single" who just wants to let all singles know that she used to be them and feels their pain. Beautiful.

"I feel like a fraud," she voices.

"I know how you feel," she sighs.

"Please don't walk away when there is a group of us talking about bedtimes and sheitels," she frets.

Oh. No. You. Didn't.

I understand you get how this feels having been there not too long ago yourself; however, if you do, then don't be like all those people who caused you pain back then. You will remember that you don't want your married friends telling you what to do and how to feel. And, if you want us to stay and catch up, then don't talk about married things.

It's really nice that you're trying to empathize, and I'm truly sorry that the pain of being single for too long didn't go away after you got married and had children. But, you no longer have a foot in this world. You need to move on and start forgetting that hurt, being happy with what you have now. You're not one of us anymore. Don't worry, if you remember, it isn't an exciting exclusive club.

Empty Nest

My last single friend (that I haven't made in the last year or so) is getting married today -- the last bird to fly from the nest. What was once a squawking blur of colorful feathers, now a quiet monotone of sticks.

Just like parents don't want to hold back their children from sprouting wings and flying the coop, I have no bitterness towards all my friends who have moved on without me. It's just a lonely lonely place without them.

Luckily, I've been blessed to meet some really cool chicks (pun intended) over the last year or so, and they're doing a great job keeping me company. Still, I just feel really left behind. Why have my wings been clipped? Why must I stay behind in the dirty sticks and earth?

So, I'll dance at her wedding, have a good time, and see her off into the sunset. I'm happy for her, but sad for me. Tinges of green.

Demons

My existence is corroded
I played hard -- my hand's since folded

Memories fill my dreams
Turned nightmares now, everything no longer like it seems

I want to run, I want to hide
Can't escape, this beast's inside

You need just look through my eyes
That's where this demon lies

I dug my own grave
Through that masquerade

I got too close
I thought it harmed us both

But while I await my next curtain call
Looks like you've got it all

I need to let you go
Counter punch this nasty blow

You replaced me in a flash
It's left an ugly gash

I don't want to be mad at you
But the pain's too difficult to be rational through

You moved on, I know
I need to let you go

You never needed me
Just any girl and you were free

Too invested in us
Now left to wait for my bus

Broken Dreams

What is wrong with me?!

I thought it was a positive thing to be optimistic, but maybe if I let myself hope less and bank on things less to be my bail-out, I'd be less disappointed and/or down when they don't pan out. Seriously, life is full of broken dreams and closed doors; I know it shouldn't let it get me down, but it hurts.

Can't anything go my way? Can't I catch a break sometimes? What is it that G-d is trying to teach me about disappointments? I get it, okay? Things don't always go my way. They actually usually never do. When was the last time something went the way I'd hoped it would? Anything that mattered that hasn't been in my immediate control just hasn't ended positively since...maybe I got accepted to grad school?

Perhaps I'm exaggerating or overreacting, splitting, only remembering the bad and not the good, but haven't I had enough defeats for awhile? Why do I feel like my life is at a standstill, that I'm stuck in a rut? When things get tough, the tough get going, right? So, where do I go? Explore other interests, make the best of a hellish situation? I've tried, over and over. This time though, this time, I'm done.

I can't anymore. I really haven't actually been faking that I'm cool with it all. I've been clear to anyone who asked that I'm not. I'm optimistic, positive, and upbeat about it usually though, because who wants to associate with a whining shrew? It really doesn't help to complain. Here's the thing though, I genuinely don't think that my expectations are overly demanding. I've certainly done much with what I can manipulate, but when it comes to things that I can't, there's just not that much I can do. Why can't G-d take the reigns and steer the horse toward the win? What does He want from me already??

What do I lack that He doesn't see to giving me what I think I need? I'm not asking for things that are major and outrageous here! They're basic. He's the one that made me require these things to go on in life. Am I being a blind-sighted faultfinder who thinks she knows better than G-d? I don't think I know better; I know it's ultimately for my best, but right now, I don't think I can go on like this.

Falling Behind By No Fault Of My Own

They seem like the idyllic family. He learned in the US, learned in Israel, came back to learn in the US while he was dating, complained that he had to date 3 other girls before he met his wife (gasp!), got married to a 19 year old, moved back to Israel to learn, and now had a baby. Of course everyone is picking up their hems and running to shower them with love and support (the monetary kind as well).

No one offered me a plane ticket. Instead, I was bidden to hold down the fort while they party away in the Holyland with Baby and the new parents. Everyone is telling me that I should be more happy, more excited. I have bragging rights as the proud aunt, but I don't even feel like he has any connection to me. When will I ever get to see him? When they come home for Pesach in ten months from now?

The worst part about that is that the go-to response is something along the lines of, "Well, they'll be here sooner if you get engaged." Like, tact anyone? If I had control over that, I'd have been engaged quite awhile ago.

So then, they're the "normal" family. The ones who have followed life's path the way it's supposed to be done. I'm the one that somehow did something wrong and have been left to pick up everyone else's slack simply because I don't have my own family. I did nothing wrong. It's not in my control when I get married, when I get to move on.

I have a life even if I'm not married. You can't just throw all this responsibility on me and expect me to step into your shoes so you can go party as the proud grandparents. Yes, I live at home and you support me for the most part, but it isn't my job to be the parent when you want to go away. I have a job (which is its own headache); I can't do this too.

Did it ever occur to you that I feel left out? Left out of this occasion of the new baby, and left out of...life. All I hear all day, and if not hear, it's implied, is about how I should be married already. I get it, I want to be married too. You think I don't? Things like this make it that much harder for me.

The younger sister-in-law who was married by 19 and a mom by age 20, never had to think about a thing. Everything was always taken care of for her; she was never old enough to have to make her own decisions, take responsibility for things. Her life just followed "normal." My life didn't come with that setting. Where is my happy ending/continuation? Why is my life stuck on pause? And why do you take advantage of that?

Well, welcome Baby to the world. It isn't your fault all this got stirred up, even if it was your birth that sparked it. I have nothing against you. May you live a long happy Utopian life like that of your parents.

The Green-Eyed Monster

Is this what jealousy feels like?
A dagger, twisting deep deep into my soul.
It robs me of my inner peace, my sense of competence, confidence, and control.
I want to be happy, I do
And I rejoice for you
But it is about me I think when this emotion overcomes me, however undefined
This feeling, this feeling of being left behind
As you move on, I'm no longer in your company, but an observer
And so this wave engulfs me as I sputter and thrash around for a life-preserver
In all other areas of my life there is this illusion that I am proficient and have control
But here, it is not so
It rubs salt in the wound, when you move on
It makes me question what is wrong
Why have I been chosen to stay behind while I watch everyone else waltz into the sunset?
But the dagger only twists deeper as I attempt to remove it
I try to convince myself that I am happy for you
And I am, despite the rest of the stages of emotion I first pass through
I only wish my happiness was not tinted in ugly shades of green
The glow from the eyes of the monster inside me so obscene