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| Family Diary |

Believe It to Live It

“My parents think I need a ‘dating coach,’” she said sardonically. “Like I’m doing something wrong”

Shani Neiman with Zivia Reischer

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t’s hard,” Naomi told me. “Every summer, the seminary girls come back, and we hire a few for my department. It’s tough to watch all these young girls waltz into the office, work for a few months or a year, and before you know it, they’re wearing a ring, then a sheitel, and then maternity. Most of me is happy for them, but the other part can’t help but feel sad for myself. Is my turn ever going to come?”

I could hear the melancholy in her voice. But then her tone changed.

“My parents think I need a ‘dating coach,’” she said sardonically. “Like I’m doing something wrong.”

“It’s very common for people to need coaching,” I said.

“That’s what they said. But they managed to get married without it!”

“Let me tell you a little about the coaching process,” I offered. “‘Coach’ is just a fancy word for ‘guide.’ A coach will guide you through each stage of the dating process — what to expect, how to prepare, what your role is, what you should look out for.

“A coach can help you understand and interpret what you see and experience as you date, and guide you with things like how to develop an emotional connection and how to be vulnerable in a relationship. Most of all, a coach can help you do all this calmly, without anxiety. How does that sound?”

“You make it sound so simple,” she said, a little bitterly.

My heart went out to her. “Naomi, I completely understand your skepticism. I’d probably feel the same way if I were in your place. I have two married children of my own, and eight more to marry off, b’ezras Hashem. It’s clear to me that coaching is a necessary part of the dating process today.

“There are considerations and issues that exist today that didn’t exist when your parents were dating. Besides, things used to be simpler. Today people are looking for different things in a prospective spouse — they want compatibility on many more levels.”

“I hear that,” Naomi admitted grudgingly. “My parents met because my mother was friends with my father’s sister. My aunt thought they would like each other, they went out, then got married. It is much more complicated today.” She let out a breath loudly. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

“I just want to mention one more thing before we start,” I said. “It’s very common for singles to wonder, Will I ever get married? Will it happen to me? That uncertainty creates a lot of self-doubt, which gets stronger and stronger the longer you’re single. Pretty soon you’re absolutely positive that you’re never going to get married.

“You go on a date with this belief, and you end up critical and analytical, looking for the reason this one isn’t going to work out either. Of course, you really do want to get married. But your own self-talk works against you and ensures you stay single.”

“I think that all the time,” Naomi admitted. “That I’m never going to get married.” She cleared her throat. “I never get past a third or maybe fourth date. There’s always something wrong. Nothing ever develops.” She swallowed. “Maybe there really is something wrong with what I’m doing?”

“It’s not only you,” I assured her. “I tell this to singles all the time. We can come up with some new self-talk that will serve you better. Say it aloud — when you’re alone in the car, or right before you go to sleep. Something like, ‘I’m getting married. I deserve to get married. I deserve to be happy. I will find someone I can share my life with. I’m getting married.’

“You can change the wording if you want. But you have to believe that you’re marriageable, and really can be married, in order to get married. It’s the first step.”

She laughed a little incredulously. “Seriously?”

“Imagine you’re on a date,” I challenged her. “You say something funny and the boy appreciates it. He smiles at you. You look back at him thinking, I’m never going to get married; this one is going to flop too. Does the relationship even stand a chance?”

This time she laughed for real. “Okay,” she said. “I get it.” She paused.

“I’ll do it,” she said a moment later. “The I’m-getting-married thing.”

“Aloud,” I reminded her.

She laughed again. “Aloud,” she agreed.

Naomi and I met for three sessions. We worked on maintaining an overall positive attitude toward dating and keeping upbeat while actually on a date. We spoke about flexibility — the recognition that Hashem can be sending you the right person in a slightly different package than you’d envisioned; if you thought one thing would be right for you and the person you’re dating is different, but it seems pretty good, go with it. After three sessions, I felt confident in her ability to date productively. She was determined.

She called me about a month later. Her voice was upbeat and happy.

“Don’t worry, I’m not engaged,” she hastened to assure me.

“I wasn’t worried,” I retorted.

“I’m dating someone, though. I went out with him three times. He’s not perfect. My old self would have said no already. He’s not sharp enough. He’s not accomplished enough.” She drew a breath. “But now I see it a little differently. He is smart, he just thinks differently than I do… And of course I’m more accomplished than him in the worldly sense — he’s still in yeshivah.

“I don’t know if I’ll marry him in the end,” she admitted, “but I wanted to let you know how much you helped me. I feel different. Hopeful. I catch myself smiling when I’m doing random things like driving or washing the dishes.”

Maybe she’d marry this guy, maybe she wouldn’t, but she had regained the confidence to take the steps needed to get married. It was a wonderful accomplishment. I felt like wishing her mazel tov.

to be continued…

 

Shani Leiman is a teacher, shadchan, and dating coach. She lives in Silver Spring, Maryland.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 738)

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