“So he has a big nose,” I said. “What did you like about him?”

“He’s outgoing and funny. We both loved our time in Israel, and he’s a good listener. But—”

“The nose,” I filled in. “So he’s a solid conversationalist with a big nose. He has a good sense of humor and a big nose. What else?”

“Well, it seems like he has a warm family and that he’s close to them.”

“That’s wonderful!” I told her. “Men who are close to their families have a far easier time building a strong connection with a wife. So he has a close-knit family and a big nose. Anything else?”

“Well… I’m confused. I have no idea if I want to marry him.”

“Marry him? You dated him once.”

This is another common issue — people go on a first date and immediately wonder: “Can I marry this person?” That’s a huge leap, especially since the person is a stranger.

Unless you’re experiencing intense infatuation — which isn’t healthy — you’re nowhere near ready to decide about marriage.

Instead of pressuring yourself, ask a simpler question: “Would I like to go on another date?” If you had a nice enough time and saw positive qualities that interested you, go out again. That’s the only decision you need to make right now.

Shaindy calmed down and agreed that while she had no idea if she wanted to marry him, she’d be happy to date him again.

Three nights later, I got another late evening call.

“The nose still bothers me,” she said without preamble.

“Hi, Shaindy. So there’s the nose. What else?”

“The conversation flowed. He seems to have an optimistic outlook. Like even when he was telling me about some tough things he went through, I could tell he bounced back from them.”

“Resilience is a huge gift.”

“But there’s another thing,” she said. “He told me what bungalow colony his family goes to. I don’t know how my parents missed this, but it’s, like, soooooo not our type. It’s balabatish, and we’re much more yeshivish. I know he changed a little when he was in yeshivah, but I can’t imagine having in-laws who go there in the summer.”

Particularly when daters are young, they often hyper-focus on details: the name of the yeshivah,  the shul he davens in, the crowd he’s associated with. If he does something out of the box, it’s too weird. If he’s completely in the box, it’s too boring.

There’s a human being behind the résumé. The person who is right for you may not look exactly like the picture you painted in your mind. Many great couples come from matches that don’t match up perfectly on paper.

I know a woman in her mid-thirties who recently got married. She’d been redt to her husband for years but wouldn’t date him because his family was more modern than hers, even though the two of them were on the same level religiously. Finally, she gave it a shot — and they’re very happily married.

Another woman I know is in her late thirties and still single. She often tells the story about an amazing guy she dated. He was everything she wanted, until one date, when he told her that during bein hazmanim he and his friends once went to a ballgame. She dropped him immediately, saying he clearly wasn’t yeshivish enough, even though he was a solid, serious learner.

“It was the biggest mistake of my life,” she says, “I could have married him, and I should have married him. He was a kid then. Today, he’s a prestigious rosh kollel.”

I told Shaindy this story, and she got very quiet.

“But… I don’t know if I can marry him.”

“That’s not what you need to decide right now,” I reminded her. “All you need to figure out is—”

“If I want to date him again,” she finished. “And I do.”

The third date was a long afternoon date, and when Shaindy called afterward, there was a pensive quality in her voice.

“We had a really good time. He’s fun and funny. Our hashkafos are in sync. And even his nose doesn’t seem quite so big.”

I laughed. Then, “I’m sensing a but.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “There’s something else. And it’s a bigger deal than the nose.”

“Let’s hear.”

“He has this impulsive streak. He drives too fast, and he cut off more than one person. He said we were going to go one place, then changed his mind as we were driving there. He told me that he didn’t work in the same camp as all his friends ’cuz he only makes last-minute decisions, and by the time he decided, all the positions were filled.”

“That’s a biggie,” I agreed. “But here’s the thing.  “Every person is going to have qualities you don’t like. Just as you have flaws and things you’re working on, so does he. Once you uncover the human flaws of the person you’re dating, you need to ask yourself: Are these imperfections I can live with?

“If there are many ‘worth-it’ qualities, focus on them and see if they can outweigh the stuff that bothers you. And if the concern is so big that you feel you can’t live with it, then say no, but first be sure you gave this a good chance.”

Shaindy dated him two more times. The last time, they nearly collided with another car when her date sped past a stop sign. “I can’t live with this imperfection,” she told me, voice thick with fear.

“I understand — that’s perfectly legitimate,” I assured her. “But you learned to stretch, to look past small irritations, and to give people a chance. You may not be engaged, but I think this first dating experience has been a resounding success.”

All coaching scenarios in this series are real; the characters are composites.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 928)