“Same thing happened on the second date. The third date was a day date, we went to the botanical gardens, and afterward I asked Nechama if she wanted to go get something to eat somewhere. I suggested this cute sushi place or maybe a café, nothing too dramatic. But she said no. I told myself maybe it was too soon or something.”

“Go on.”

“Today I didn’t ask any questions, I just bought us drinks and put it down in front of her. She didn’t drink it. Wait,” he said, before I could answer. “Another thing.

“On the drive home, it started pouring. Not a little drizzle, a real downpour. I had an umbrella and I offered to walk her to the door, but she declined. I thought maybe she thought walking together with an umbrella would be awkward, so I told her just to take it and I’d come get it — I actually had another one in the car. But she was like, ‘No, the rain doesn’t bother me at all, it’s fine.’ She just got out of the car.” Yehuda was pretty agitated by now. “I like this girl a lot, but it’s, like, she refuses to let me do anything for her!”

I took a deep breath. “Yehuda,” I said, “I’m sure Nechama doesn’t realize she’s doing anything wrong or annoying. She probably thinks she’s making your life easier by not ‘bothering’ you to do things for her. I’ll speak to her about it, but I’m sure she didn’t mean to offend you in any way.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I understand. I won’t take it personally.”

But there was something much more serious I was concerned about. I called Nechama.

“The date was great!” she said. She told me she was impressed with Yehuda and felt comfortable opening up to him.

“I’m curious, did you guys get anything to eat together?”

Nechama giggled. “No way,” she said. “I totally don’t do that, ever. I never even let the boy buy a drink for me.”

“Nechama,” I said carefully, “what kind of relationship do you envision having with your husband? What kind of role do you expect him to play?”

She thought for a minute. “I guess I want to know I’ll be taken care of. Emotionally, financially, even spiritually, I guess. You know, he should be the man of the house. That’s what most girls want, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said. “And most boys want to be the man. They want to take charge, take care of their wife and their family. Men need to give and be the provider.”

“Okay.” She giggled again. “Sounds like it works.”

“I know you don’t realize it, but this dynamic starts when the boy arranges the date, plans where to go, finds parking, leads the conversation. It’s not just good manners. It’s a crucial component in the relationship.

“He needs to give and you need to receive. That give-and-take opens a natural dynamic between you that creates a positive feeling. It allows the relationship to progress.”

“Okay,” she said again. She didn’t giggle this time.

“Right now, you’re not married. You’re just dating. The only way Yehuda can ‘take care of’ you is by buying you drinks, taking you out to eat, offering help when it rains… things like that. If you deny him that opportunity, you’re stunting the relationship.”

“Mrs. Leiman,” Nechama said, “Forget dating — I never let anyone do anything for me. I’m very independent. I’m the person who is always doing things for other people.”

“Nechama, every time Yehuda offers you something to drink or tries to help you in some way, it’s an opportunity to become closer, to build the relationship, to create a natural flow. Every refusal is a roadblock. You keep putting up those roadblocks, pretty soon you won’t be able to drive down that road anymore.”

“It’s really hard for me and I don’t want people to do things for me,” Nechama said. “But I guess I’ll try.”

“Yehuda really likes you,” I reminded her before I hung up. “But there’s only so much he can take. You need to be open to receiving.”

Later that evening I got a call from Nechama’s father.

“Nechama told us what you told her,” he began. “Can I shed some light on the situation?”

“Sure.”

“What you told Nechama is what I wish someone would tell my wife. This is probably the single greatest challenge in our marriage.

“My wife doesn’t let me buy her gifts. She’ll never take me up on my offer to run errands or help her out in any way. She wants me never to do anything for her. It’s unbelievably frustrating and makes me feel like a failure.”

He shifted into a higher pitch, like he was speaking for his wife. “Don’t buy me anything, I don’t care about jewelry. Don’t waste money on flowers, they just die. I don’t need help with anything, I’m fine.” He paused. “I get this sinking feeling. I would love to do something for her and make her light up and smile. But she won’t allow me to. Whether Nechama marries this boy or not, what you told her tonight is very important.”

After their next date, Yehuda stopped seeing Nechama. He had planned a small picnic at the water, but Nechama wouldn’t touch any of the food.

When he told me his answer was no, I understood. Not every problem can be solved quickly. Not every match is meant to be. I felt bad for Nechama, who was missing out on so much.

But the phone call I received a few weeks later from Nechama’s father gave me hope. He called to ask for some information about a boy that had been suggested for Nechama.

Just before he hung up, he added, “I’ve been talking with Nechama about what happened with Yehuda. And I’ve been talking about it with my wife too.

“Watching it play out with our daughter has helped her understand what I’ve been trying to tell her for 25 years. Thank you so much. I’m hopeful that we’re all going to have a happy ending.”

To be continued…

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

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 715)