Ten Reasons I Want to Get Married
| January 9, 2024“Why do you want to get married?” Well, I’ve compiled a list of reasons
I’ve noticed a new trend among shadchanim, and that is that they’ve all become self-proclaimed dating coaches. Each seems determined not only to set me up, but also to delve into my subconscious and figure out why I’m still single. Hence the number one question I always hear is: “Why do you want to get married?”
Well, I’ve compiled a list of reasons. Now I just need to hand them out along with my résumé.
- Stopping those segulos: People, or should I say married people, have a need to share their proven segulos with me. Like the woman on the plane to Eretz Yisrael who told me to daven at a certain kever, because her son did when he was in yeshivah a year and a half ago — and now he just got engaged! Or the lady at the wedding who pushed me under the canopy after the chuppah, because her 19-year-old niece did that and got engaged the next day. I appreciate all the suggestions, really. But it’s become challenging to stop rolling my eyes.
- Preplanning vacations: Being single means I can never plan a vacation more than three weeks in advance. Because, you know, I might get engaged. Or my friend will. But last-minute planning means higher ticket prices. When I get married, I’ll be able to plan vacations a year in advance!
- No more bad hair days: Two- or three-day Yamim Tovim have become a real issue for me. Well, not the actual Yom Tov, but the oily hair that results from it. Being on the market requires me to always look my best. Of course, I must go to shul to be seen, but going out with oily hair just doesn’t cut it. And no, dry shampoo does not help. Not one little bit. With dry shampoo, not only is my hair oily, it is also stiff, tangled, and itchy. But, if I get married… voilà, my hair is covered!
- A new siddur: My well-used siddur broke, and while I know I can just buy myself a new one, I hope to get engaged soon. And there’s a timeless tradition that the chassan must buy his kallah a new siddur. So why should I buy one now? I wouldn’t want to waste money that I’ll use to support my husband in kollel. But I do need a new siddur, so I guess I need get a move on getting engaged soon.
- That ring: I really wanted the ring I was trying on. No, it wasn’t a diamond ring, but I really liked it. But the saleswoman at the jewelry store said it was for married women, not for me, and she showed it to the 20-year-old married girl behind me.
- No hand left behind: Okay, I also want a diamond ring. I have plenty of rings, but there is an ironclad law: Thou shall not wear any ring on your left hand unless it is a diamond ring. My left hand feels empty and left out. Honestly, I need to get engaged just so I can put a ring on that finger.
- Making my two cents heard: I’m a preschool teacher, and a good one, but I get the feeling that parents think I’m a joke. Like the mom who told me I’m cute when I suggested that she send a healthier breakfast for her son. I do not need to be married and have my own kids to know that Skittles are not a good breakfast choice. Unless maybe I do?
- The adult table: I love high school girls and all, but I don’t love being placed at their table. I’m sort of past that stage. Make that very, very past it. I’d prefer to sit at the adult table, please. But being an adult is not the prerequisite for being placed there, being married is. So if that’s the only way to grab a seat, I need to get a move on it.
- The right to remain seated: I think I’m a respectful person. I certainly value derech eretz. I stand up for older people, disabled individuals, and expecting women all the time, even if they’re younger than I am. But I do not want to be told to stand up for another woman just because she has a sheitel and I don’t. Especially when I’m older than she is.
- My vort dress: I really like my vort dress and I really want to wear it before it goes out of fashion. I would have liked to wear the one I bought six years ago, too, it was also nice, but styles have changed. This dress still works, though, and I’ve already made a kabbalah that this will be the last vort dress I buy. Im yirtzeh Hashem. Bli neder.
(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 876)
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