You think I'm a picky older single, but I'm just trying to stay sane

Dear Singles,

Let me begin with an anecdote. The episode falls under the category of “cringey memories.” I was 20 or 21 — old enough to get married, but young enough to be a know-it-all.

Shimon had been friends with my brother for years. We knew him quite well, and found it a shame that someone so good-looking and intelligent was still single.

Then a cousin had a thought: What about her classmate? Yes! we enthused, what a brilliant idea! It was perfect, just perfect!

For unknown reasons, the 20-year-old with only one date to her name was elected to be the middle-person. I enthusiastically emailed Shimon about Miri, proclaiming that she was perfect, just perfect for him!

He flatly refused to go out with her.

I spluttered in shock, then typed back ferociously, asking why. Didn’t he immediately appreciate that she was just perfect for him?

He responded with a list of reasons as to why he was not interested, which I scoffed at. So that’s why he’s still single, I thought as I rolled my eyes.

I may have replied something obnoxiously condescending, like: “It would give me such joy to dance at your wedding but, my good fellow, that’s not going to happen if your outlook remains ridiculously narrow.”

They did not go out. Shimon did marry some years later, a woman who isn’t remotely like Miri.

Not so long later, I found myself on the other side. I was now Shimon; I was the “unreasonable” single.

There are a number of articles written, sometimes even by former older singles, declaring that the unmarried are contributing to their condition by their refusal to date those who don’t fit their criteria. In those authors’ cases, they ended up marrying someone from a completely different background and way out of their comfort zone. These stories put the onus on the singles, sending us all into a self-doubting frenzy.

However, while people like to extrapolate general law from a few tales, the fact of the matter is that everyone has their own story, their own life saga. Childhood, school days, career choice, etc., are unique to each individual. One person had a happy youth; another felt misunderstood by parents and educators. One enjoyed high school as a popular student; another has miserable memories as a friendless loner.

The journey to marriage is no different: Everyone has their own story. Including me. So here are some of my insights born from experience, as a woman who dated for over a decade.

For those who have Teflon coating, dating isn’t a very complicated endeavor. You go out. If you don’t like what you see, you say no and move on. If you say yes and it’s not reciprocated, you shrug and move on. No harm, no foul.

In my case, nearly every date was grueling. If I didn’t like the boy, but was told he liked me, then I’d feel terrible for hurting his feelings (I’m one of those who didn’t enjoy high school, and I know all too well that rejection hurts). If I liked the boy, but he didn’t like me, I’d agonize, mentally replaying the conversation, berating myself for saying this or that.

I would pray for mutual disinterest — that was the easiest.

I started out “open.” But it became too difficult. I had more bad dates than good, and each disastrous meeting would chink away at my optimism, energy, and self-respect. If I was going to maintain my sanity, I needed to be more discerning.

One doesn’t date for years without finding patterns. I learned how to “read between the lines” on profiles, and discern problems. Shadchanim would do to me what I did to Shimon, accuse me of turning down perfect suggestions for nebulous reasons. I couldn’t voice these objections without causing offense, nor did I want to open the discussion to debate, so I stayed vague in terms of explanations, but firm on my “no.” I’m sure plenty believed I was being silly, but I was operating from a place of both logic and gut feelings.

Everyone has their own list of likes, dislikes, and maybes. Who’s to say that my dislike has no validity, when I may find another’s to be ridiculous?

I used to believe that some criteria were unimportant and some were legitimate. But now I know that everyone is different. Was it “silly” that some (many) men said no to me because I was taller than them? I didn’t mind if I was. They did. They’re entitled.

And yet, maybe one of them accidentally went out with a giant and was so taken by her personality that he overlooked coming up to her elbow. Hashem works it out.

That is what I’ve also learned: Hashem works it out. Hashem can outsmart any of us. Whether our dislikes are silly or valid, we marry who we’re supposed to. My mother would say, “They find you, even if you’re hiding under the bed.” If marriages are bashert, then singles are safely in the Hands of Hashem. He has a plan for us all, no exceptions.

I know a number of couples in which one half said no to the other at some point but they ended up marrying anyway. It’s not like a “no” is the end of the world. Sometimes a person can be redt the same individual for years before a date happens. Sometimes two people go out, one says no, then they go out again a while later. The marriage still happens.

Hashem knows we are trying the best we can. “Best” is also relative. Everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses. Everyone has their own worldview. It’s not fair that personal standards are foisted onto others, especially by those who have never been in the same situation (married at 21? Be grateful… and silent).

So I’m not going to say, “Because this happened to me, you should do the same.” What I will say is, “You do you.” That means having a good long conversation with yourself, figuring out what’s really important to you, no matter how “silly” or “valid.”

What are your likes, dislikes, maybes? What are needs and what are wants? What’s important to you, and what are you claiming only because of “what people will say”? (By the way, it doesn’t matter what people say. To quote my mother again, “So they said.”) Be open — to a limit. If the idea of going on a specific date makes you want to join Witness Protection, it’s all right to say, “No thank you.”

Because if it’s meant to be, Hashem will work it out. He took care of it for me. He’ll take care of it for you, too.

Sincerely,

A Former Single

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 741)