Dear Bochur, you chose to walk away from the plate, without taking a swing

Dear Bochur,

I, like you, have read many stories and articles on the pages of this magazine dealing with mental illness. I, like you, have a hard time understanding the complexities of mental illness, and frankly it scares me, too. Having had a tangential brush, through a relative, with a not so positive struggle with mental illness, I, too, planned for my daughter to stay far away from anyone on the shidduch scene with an issue in this realm.

Still, when my very normal, bright, talented, energetic, happy, productive, and (clearly quite) self-aware daughter approached my husband and I to discuss some “low” feelings she was occasionally experiencing, by the week’s end, she’d already met with a therapist who began to teach her tools to deal with these feelings. She “graduated” three months later with a tool box that allowed her to successfully decrease the intensity and duration of these feelings.

But the onset of these feelings, I’ve since learned, are not in man’s control. This is the way Hashem created my daughter. And while she was feeling a lot more in control using her new set of tools, she wanted to feel even better. So she chose to begin medication, which has baruch Hashem brought her to exactly where she wants to be. I applaud her for confidently making a mature, responsible, safe decision.

Not a very exciting LifeLines story. A boring journey.

As you dated my daughter and your feelings for her were clearly growing (she, too, was hopeful about a future together), my daughter, with guidance from daas Torah, felt the time was right for the “big reveal.” After some deliberation on your part, and with zero follow-up or communication with her, you broke it off, citing an unclear future.

I agree, dear bochur, that the future is unclear. But can we ever know the future? We don’t plan to have an autistic child, we don’t plan to become sick with cancer, we don’t plan to go through infertility. We have no choice but to face the curveballs that life will inevitably throw our way. My daughter faced that curveball, swung, and got a solid hit. And now she’s looking for a strong team player to build a life with.

But teammates need to communicate and be able to help each other during a slump. While I was troubled with the way things unfolded, my daughter’s ironclad emunah allowed her to instantly recognize that it just wasn’t bashert for the two of you to play for the same team.

Dear bochur, you chose to walk away from the plate, without taking a swing. But who knows…had you stuck in the game, I bet you could have hit a home run and together become all-stars.

I pray that with Hashem’s help you’ll both find your intended teammates. And I pray that lessons can be learned by our community that not all mental illness is the same, not every journey is a harrowing or debilitating one.

Our children’s growth is strengthened when navigating difficult circumstances. Once, I, too, believed that any hint of struggle with emotional stability should be an automatic disqualification in the shidduch scene.

But resilience is built by overcoming hardship.

Greatness — and a “great” guy or girl — isn’t achieved when we avoid any struggle or disappointment. It’s born out of our ability to identify our strengths and challenges and to meet them with honesty and faith.

These are the key skills that will enable a person to face the future with success.

Sincerely,

The Proud Mother of a Perfectly Imperfect Girl

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 723)