The Conversation, as Mishpacha likes to say, “Continues.” When it comes to shidduchim, it continues, and continues

TO

our cherished sisters, daughters, nieces, and friends,

We know you’re not unmarried due to being too XYZ, not being XYZ enough, or any other X, Y, or Z (Aha! That’s why!). Plenty of people, long married to the first guy they met, are carriers of whatever XYZ you are, and were they still available, could be “labeled” with some XYZ of their own.

Once, scattered individuals, echad l’ir, were hitting these incomprehensible walls, and we fooled ourselves with pat theories. Today, when it’s shnayim l’mishpachah, all-pervasive, the cogent explanation is that this isn’t only about you, but a wake-up call to us all.

Small comfort undoubtedly. Why the Ribbono shel Olam chose you to pull our tefillos and open our hearts, we can’t know.

If there’s any awareness stirred from this forever discussion, please let it be that most people know themselves better than anyone else, and desire the best life possible for themselves, even more than we desire it for them. Let’s keep our minds open and our judgment closed, and primarily, those ideas coming.

To our beloved ladies-in-waiting, celebrating in Klal Yisrael’s simchahs, contributing to our communities, devoting your talents to vital endeavors, traveling an uncharted path for which your stellar education didn’t sufficiently prepare you: You’re not a crisis. You’re an inspiration.

Sharing and Caring

I know that revealing vulnerabilities builds trust. Problem is, I’m getting burned-out from repeatedly having spilled things to someone I’ll never see again. How do I balance vulnerability with emotional protection?

Sharing is important.

The desire to connect has its roots in the deepest layers of Creation. Adam and Chava, our prototype male and female, were formed as one and then separated into two, causing a profound vacuum that longs to be filled. When two people stand under the chuppah, on a spiritual level, they’re rejoined. Human connection, especially with a significant other, is an innate need, and not being able to emotionally share can point to a slew of underlying issues.

Openness, yes. Indiscretion, no.

Unburdening too much too soon is an unhealthy overload, even if the intensity feels good. The dating process should progress in stages, and your order is topsy-turvy. The aim is to get to know each other and see if you like each other, before “sharing.”

First, see who someone is. As they earn your trust, open up. What follows is more authentic.

It’s unwise to hide situations. It’s also injudicious to unleash all the gory particulars of your too-chilled past, or an overly detailed play-by-play of your parents’ rocky shalom bayis (rabbinic guidance is highly recommended for the timing and extent of sensitive disclosures).

Until marriage, absolute trust doesn’t exist, because your bond isn’t fully formed. A relationship develops in tandem. You have to feel bad for the rest of the world, where people take unreasonable risks with their most personal selves before they have the confidence of commitment and marriage. How hurtful, how sad, how fragile. It also doesn’t work. Decades of research show higher divorce rates for people whose lives are overly joined before tying the knot. How many times do you hit a splitting frog before switching up the approach?

Loyalty

I met someone and it’s serious. On our sixth date, he divulged information that I think would concern my parents. I’ve decided not to tell them. He confided in me, and it feels snaky to use this against him.

When you say your parents would be concerned, that might be your way of saying that you’re concerned, too. This sounds worthy of a conversation, and if you’re uncomfortable involving your parents, as this is someone who may become their son-in-law, reach out to a rav, rebbetzin, or mentor.

Let’s clarify: There’s no betrayal, because currently you have no responsibility to anyone but yourself. You’re not a couple yet. Shidduchim isn’t about a present relationship; it’s about assessing potential for a future one. Obviously, after the wedding, you’re a unit. Now, despite the welcome growing emotions, you’re not.

Anti-intuitive as it sounds, sometimes thinking only about yourself and your needs appropriately can be the nicest thing you can do.

Some classic scenarios: You prefer to give things another try, but think you’ll eventually end up saying no and are afraid to hurt anyone. Or conversely, you know this isn’t for you, but worry he’ll take it badly, so you keep it going longer. In both cases, staying focused on your assignment, which is to figure out what’s right for you, is kinder all around.

Easy Way Out?

I‘m confident my daughter does what she can, yet there’s no chassan in sight. Our family’s gotten into segulos. Can you recommend any?

Neither you, nor anyone reading this, believes Hashem sends us difficulties so we’ll be motivated to collect segulos, legit as some are.

People say “segulah” and often mean “zechus” — something internal and meritorious that stands in our favor and helps us grow through the process. Let’s explore a few.

Prayer: This is where the action is. There’s nothing more logical than talking it out with He who holds the keys. While aloneness is said to be the most painful of human experiences, truthfully, a person is never alone. No relationship we ever have will come close to that with our Creator, Who understands us best.

Bitachon: “Emunah” is recognizing everything is orchestrated. “Bitachon” is applying it in real time. “Throw your burden on G-d and He’ll carry it” (Tehillim 55:23). As psychologists say, “You don’t own this problem.” Send it over to He Who does.

Stepping Aside: Many poskim encourage younger siblings not to wait for older ones, albeit with great sensitivity. If you are the older sister, your graciousness is a potent force. When a young woman wouldn’t move forward despite her sister’s blessing, Rav Chaim Kanievsky would tell her she was depriving her older siblings of a game-changing zechus.

Yitzchak brought Hagar to Avraham after Sarah died (Bereishis Rabbah 60:14). Immediately following, the Torah relates his own marriage. A friend was 42 when she met her husband. The engagement was abuzz with how she’d recently set up her widowed father.

Compassion: Empathizing with others despite your own pekeleh is mighty impressive. “Anyone who has mercy on others, receives mercy from Heaven” (Shabbos 151b). That’s one reason why praying for someone in similar circumstances is so laudable that you can be answered first (Bava Kamma 92a).

There are never assurances, and the ways of Hashem are beyond us. Nevertheless, these are powerful means. Whether or not they land us under the chuppah, they certainly lead us somewhere substantial.

And while on the subject, check this out:

My sisters and I were moved by the discussion on shidduch pictures. We agree; this is outrageous. We’ve decided not to accept pictures for our sons. We feel it’s a zechus for the girls in our family who are waiting.

That’s tremendous, and it makes sense. Sanctity and modesty bring brachah to your family. “Hashem, your G-d, walks with you in the midst of your camp, saving you and overcoming your enemies. Therefore your camp should be holy, that He shouldn’t see immodesty among you and turn away from you” (Devarim 23:15).

Raising standards invites the Shechinah closer and opens avenues of success and blessing. How exactly are these photos helping anyone’s cause?

We spelled out much of what is wrong regarding pictures in the first part of this series. Bottom line, we’d make Achashveirosh proud.

Some of the trend is more subtle. It’s interesting when mothers ask for photos to assess tzniyus. You’re legitimizing the use of this most rude venue — which will then be perpetuated by others in even more immodest ways — for the sake of tzniyus. What a joke.

Red Light, Green Light

My friend is the youngest of five, all single. She claimed she would become engaged to the first guy she meets. I thought she was joking, AND THEN SHE DID!! I’m nervous for her. What if she’s marrying the wrong person?

A bochur was determined to get engaged before his second younger sister’s wedding, and he succeeded. His wife’s awesome, but does anyone think she’s significantly different from all 58 prospects who preceded her?

I’m not sure how to put this delicately, so I’ll say it and duck: Forget about the Right One. Forget bashert. It’s as practically relevant as, lehavdil, Cupid’s arrow.

There are endless variables affecting when and why people connect. As a social experiment, a secular dating app told users they were being set up according to algorithms and personal data, and while some were, others were matched randomly. It set off a scandal, but the experiment worked: When people were led to believe they were a good match, they acted accordingly. We’ve all heard stories about Shloime or Bob being all wrong and becoming much less wrong when a dozen roses are thrown in to sweeten the deal.

Here’s where bashert fits in. The young woman who showed up just then, and had the basic profile he wanted, just as his sister was engaged and he was determined to move on, was clearly Divinely ordained. But in a community of thousands of people, believing she was the only one he could be happy with is ridiculous. We marry someone with whom we can build a beautiful life, and he becomes the right person. And that’s not called settling.

Relax. As long as your friend was selective about who she met, and is choosing someone for qualities that count later, his being the right person has more to do with how they treat each other long-term, give of themselves, and learn to walk together.

Your Call

You mentioned in your dating article to use the acronym of LVE — Like, Values, Emotional health — for checking compatibility. Very cute, btw. So in the “like” category, I don’t like when a date isn’t put together and I get flak for it. Isn’t that a reasonable want?

You have every right to decide what works for you. As far as other people’s opinions go, the rule is, everyone chooses their own spouse.

Here are four caveats.

One: You can’t have everything. How can you possibly predesign all the details of your spouse? That’s as realistic as guessing Powerball numbers. A serious contender is a candidate with a nice number of the top qualities you want. You can absolutely write “put together” and then delete something else. A short basic list ensures you don’t get stuck on a set image. Start with an approximate sketch to be filled in by a wonderful person.

Two: Is this preference realistic? If you have many fine offers, sure, go for the clean-cut one. If you haven’t dated in a while, and only scruffy guys land in your inbox, you can persist, but it may be unwise.

Three: Compromise on style quicker than substance. Maybe you’re super meticulous and a tie askew is the tip of a conflicting personality iceberg. That’s substance. But if the annoying messy look is easily fixable, it should be less of a deal-breaker.

Four: Ascertain that this is about you and who you are, not expectations coming from people around you or society. Will this bother you once you close the doors behind you? If not, let it go.

Preordained, or Free Will?

It’s puzzling that marriage is a mitzvah when it’s beyond my control. Aside from submitting my résumé and acting civilized, all I can do is live my life and wait for something to happen.

You’re right that this is an obligation, and so your question is partially an answer. Much of finding our match can seem powerless, and is indeed out of our hands, but getting married is a mitzvah, Biblical for men and rabbinic for women (Ishus 15:15). It’s logical that for the majority, there is some control, and bechirah chofshis, free will, is applicable as with all commandments.

Easier said than done! The Rambam (when discussing a man’s obligation) explains that after coming of age, one is only liable for his single status after three years have passed (Ishus 16:2). We can assume liability depends on adequate conditions. If he proposes to every girl but gets rebuffed, he’s exempt (although he’s socially off and could use some tips). But what if he’s turning down perfectly excellent suggestions because there might be someone more perfect around the corner? That might indicate a different story — that only he can judge. As the tale goes, Confirmed Bachelor comes to Heaven and says, “Eibeshter, I was drowning in singlehood, why didn’t you save me...?”

A number of years back, a girl who’d been dating for some time went to Rav Dovid Feinstein ztz”l for a brachah. With his famous gentle smile, Rav Dovid asked, “Tell me, how many people have you met?” “Around forty,” she said. He then made this calculation: “Let’s say twenty were entirely out of the ballpark. And let’s say ten said no.” He advised that she look over the remaining names, decide who the best candidate is, and go back to it. “If he was a baal middos, they had mutual life goals, and a common path toward those goals,” said Rav Dovid, “You grab it!”

This advice works great but is not appropriate for everyone. What if all her dates are married? Or waving red flags? Unfortunately, our free-choice challenge might be how to proceed when there are a dearth of opportunities, when someone is an “oness,” stuck in circumstances beyond their control.

We all know this: There aren’t enough appropriate male candidates for our special, accomplished, high-level frum female demographic who are doing what they can. The terrible reality is that the shidduch crisis is also bashert.

But the underlying idea is still an important one, even if you may be mad at me for saying it (I hope you’re not, though). Dating is full of wrenching decisions, and we’re responsible for how we arrive at those decisions. Largely, and with notable exceptions, shidduchim is a combination of G-d-given opportunities, and mortal choices.

A hue and cry rises from all quarters: “What about the Bas Kol (Sotah 2a)?!” What about G-d sitting all day and matching people up (Bereishis Rabbah 68:4)?!’ ” And, Doesn’t He “set individuals in their homes, dragging anyone held back with ropes (Tehillim 68:7)”? “It’s all meant to be!”

Of course this is true. Whatever happens is always meant to be. How we balance choosing with the fact that everything is part of Hashem’s design is the greatest of philosophical discussions. Philosophy aside, there are guiding principles. Before the fact, we have dilemmas and decide carefully (bechirah). After the fact, it’s all part of the Grand Plan (yediah).

Later, when you’re married, you’ll see how you found out what you were supposed to find out, missed what you were meant to miss. The Master of the Universe lured you right in there, hook, line, and sinker. We land where we were supposed to, and are then presented with a whole new range of choices to make, as part of our exclusive, custom-made Olam Hazeh experience.

It’s all bashert. 

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 940)