It will take wisdom, foresight, and some soul-searching from both the top and the grassroots to address those changes.
On
the street, in shuls, at simchahs, and in these pages, there’s been lots of mixed feedback to the new shidduch initiative that would have young men start shidduchim earlier and young women later.
The open secret is that many young women have been waiting anyway — not as a conscious choice, but because the phone just doesn’t ring that often in our current reality. Normalizing the wait as a feature rather than a bug of the yeshivish dating system, in keeping with the directions of the rabbanim and roshei yeshivah, will hopefully be a positive step toward a more balanced and equitable process.
When a ship captain decides to change course, that shift will inevitably create ripples in the water. The sea change in the shidduch system — an institutionalized “gap year” for young women — will bring changes other than timing and numbers of completed shidduchim. It will take wisdom, foresight, and some soul-searching from both the top and the grassroots to address those changes. Thankfully, our leaders and communities already possess all those attributes — otherwise, how could we have reached this point?
After reading many comments and letters, listening to myriad conversations, and sounding out lots of “everyman” types, here are three shifts that will likely require effort and attention While We Wait.
Structure and Support
Months ago, I was discussing the proposed “shidduch gap year” with a woman deeply involved in supporting this demographic. When she heard about the plan, she told me, her instinctive reaction was Don’t. Every month that a young seminary graduate remains unmoored is risky.
New beginnings always come with some fear; that abrupt adjustment to post-seminary existence even more so. It’s the first time in these young women’s lives that they lack any formal structure for their ruchniyus. In “real life,” there are no teachers, camp directors, or seminary directors determining how they will structure their day, delivering curated lessons and inspiration, or setting expectations and standards. If I want to be a productive and growing person, they realize, it’s up to me to make it happen.
That realization can be very empowering. And there is a decided advantage when a woman enters marriage not just with a strong sense of what’s important to her — but also with the hard-won experience of actually living those values outside the rose-tinted seminary world.
But the jump from utopian cocoon to structureless post-seminary world can also be confusing and destabilizing. And an enforced wait can reinforce negative patterns in young women who don’t have structure and support. The reality is that we thrive when we commit to structure and accountability, ideally with a group. Some groups that combine ruchniyus guidance with social and emotional support already exist (Mrs. Faigie Zelcer’s LinkUp Nook network is a very successful model), but the need will only grow as we formalize the “waiting room” period.
Ready to Receive
Most of the young women in our communities aren’t looking for glamorous careers that will supersede a prime role at home. They’re looking for realistic job options that can coexist with marriage and motherhood. But with every year in the workplace, they become stronger and more self-sufficient. Many hold demanding jobs with significant authority, large budgets, and tough deadlines — even as they volunteer, do regular chesed, and participate in all sorts of campaigns.
As a smart dating coach told me, in shidduchim the boy’s advantage lasts only until the car door closes and the first date begins. Then he’s at the mercy of a polished, articulate, accomplished, and discerning young woman who knows exactly what she’s looking for and how to weed out anyone who doesn’t meet her qualifications.
Hashem embedded certain patterns into every marriage, and it’s beautiful and moving to watch even the most authoritative young woman settle into her role as a wife. But the shift can be hard for those used to the thrill of checking off constant, tangible accomplishments; marriage and parenting revolve around process a lot more than outcome. Maybe we should devote some thought to ensuring that our young women retain their capacity to “bend and blend” into the feminine paradigm of the mekabel — the partner who finds fulfillment in the process of nurturing — even as they gain time to become more accomplished, more developed, and more goal-oriented.
Adults in the Home
These days there’s a plethora of guidance for parents of small children, tweens, and teenagers. There’s even guidance for parents of married couples. But when it comes to mature, self-sustaining adults living with their parents in the family home, a lot of players are improvising on a poorly lit stage with no script to follow.
Parents are not quite sure where their roles and responsibilities begin and end toward their independent adult daughters who hold serious responsibility in the wider world yet still reside in their childhood household. No mother can sleep well until all the children in her care are safely home — but what happens when the empty bed belongs to a full-fledged adult? And how should parents behave when an adult child chooses different standards for their own avodas Hashem and/or lifestyle — choices that are completely within their rights, but might affect the atmosphere for everyone else?
The daughters, too, find themselves in a delicate place. They watch their parents work through the usual challenges of life — finances, relationships, work stress, parenting dilemmas — possessing their own opinions and insights (and sometimes even financial means), but no authority to offer their contribution. They may have honed a vision for what a Shabbos table should look like, but they’re still children at their own parents’ table. They hold authority at work, but are subservient at home. It’s a murky place to be. As we formalize the “shidduch gap year,” we might consider formalizing some guidance for the players in the family home.
One of the most heartening takeaways of this new shidduch initiative is the knowledge that we’ve been blessed with leaders who have the awareness and empathy to spot a problem, reevaluate, and recalculate. We’re all davening and hoping that the shift will bring yeshuos to everyone affected by the imbalance in the shidduch world, and that the new “shidduch gap year” will help our accomplished, attuned, and spiritually developed young women build beautiful homes with less heartache and worry.
And hopefully, the willingness to self-correct will encompass not just the grand systemic decisions — the mandate of steering the ship in a different direction — but also the smaller yet very consequential ripple effects that result from the sea change. —
