Sender and Hadassah had a great first date and a great second date. Third and fourth dates were also smooth. I could see it going all the way. This shidduch just made sense; it worked.
But after the fifth date, Hadassah came over to discuss something.
“I’m seriously embarrassed about this,” she stammered, “but I have to say it anyway, because I really want this shidduch to work.”
“Let’s hear.”
“Sender is really everything I’m looking for,” she stressed. “I think he’s incredible, and he’s different from all the other boys I dated. We have a great time together. He’s smart and deep, and he has beautiful middos. I really appreciate who he is.” She took a deep breath. “But… I’m embarrassed to say this… the way he dresses really bothers me. I’m not majorly into fashion, and I’m not a high-maintenance type of person. I don’t need a guy who wears brand names. But I do need my husband to be more… put-together, overall.”
She rushed on without giving me a chance to respond. “I really can’t believe that this bothers me. You don’t understand. I’m that girl who rails against brand names and the obsession people have with cultivating just the right ‘look.’ All it does is give them a false sense of importance. It doesn’t reflect on that person’s inner qualities at all. I never understood how people could include style or looks when they describe someone, instead of discussing the person’s qualities. And Sender has all the qualities I value! I can’t believe that I’m dating the kind of boy I always wanted and the way he dresses is bothering me!”
“Hadassah,” I said, “there’s no need to beat yourself up. You’re not a petty kind of person, even if this bothers you. Let me ask you this — would you be willing to let him go because of the way he dresses?”
“No way,” she said vehemently. “But… I also can’t move forward. It’s a real issue for me.”
“You know, married women often shop for their husbands, or help their husbands shop — they pick out their ties, suits, shoes…”
“Yeah, I know that.” Hadassah giggled. “My mother does that for my father.”
“So you can do that for Sender too,” I said. “It’s just a matter of being able to look past it temporarily. Why don’t you talk it over with him?”
“Whaaat?! Are you serious?” She was shocked. “No way! He’ll lose any respect he has for me!”
“We can find a way to say it that doesn’t sound petty or critical,” I offered. “Like, ‘You know, I see how my mother shops for my father and always chooses his clothes, but I wouldn’t be happy if someone tried that on me! Does your mother shop for your father?’ ”
Hadassah gave me a cross between a gasp and a laugh. “Oh, my gosh,” she said. “Um, maybe.”
“Hadassah, you can’t marry someone planning to change them. You have to accept them as they are. That means their personality, character, middos. But clothing doesn’t necessarily fall into that category. Often a boy or girl is open to changing their style of dress if they know it would make their spouse very happy, and if the request is respectful and reasonable.”
“I… I just don’t know,” Hadassah said.
“Do you have a mentor or something that you want to talk it over with?”
“Oh,” Hadassah said. “That’s a good idea. Maybe I’ll do that. I’ll get back to you.”
When she did get back to me, she was giggling so much it was hard to understand what she was telling me.
“I called my aunt,” she said. “I’m very close to her, and she married off a few kids already. You’ll never believe what she said.”
“Yeeeees?”
“She said I should speak to Sender about it!”
“Sounds familiar!”
“She said exactly what you said, that I should ask him if, hypothetically speaking, his wife wanted to shop for him, would he mind.”
“Are you going to do it?”
“I can’t do it, Mrs. Leiman. I just can’t.”
Sender and Hadassah went out again — their tenth date. When he pulled up in front of her house, he turned to her and said frankly, “I think things are going well. Is there anything you want to ask me or anything you want to know at this point?”
Hadassah told me that she didn’t even blink. She just blurted out what was bothering her.
Sender just smiled.
“I’m colorblind and don’t have a sense of style,” he told Hadassah. “I’d be thrilled if someone would help me shop. I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll make you a deal. You can pick out my suit for the wedding.”
Hadassah grinned. “It’s a deal!”
to be continued…

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

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue  740)