"I Like Her, But..."

"I like her, but this isn't going in the direction I want."

"She's everything I'm looking for but it's not a shidduch."

"There's no chemistry."

Okay, guys. C'mon, 'fess up. What's going on here? What are you saying? What do you mean? Let's be honest here.

Do you really like me? Did you really have a good time with me? Then why are you dumping me like yesterday's garbage? What's the real truth? Is it my looks? Is it my personality? Is it my opinions?

Or is it you? Are you not interested in giving a girl the chance she needs to show you what she is? Do you think you know me already? Do you think you have me figured out?

Guess what, boys. You ain't seen nuthin' in seven hours with me. You have NO IDEA that the girl in front of you can feel, think, act, and talk in ways you wouldn't dream of. You have no idea what she's all about. You have no idea that you've TOTALLY misread her. You have no idea that there's a whole lot more than meets the eye, and you're too deep to want a girl who you know everything about by the end of the second date.

What are you looking for? What do you want? What do you expect? What am I doing wrong?

Or maybe I'm totally not getting it. Maybe you really didn't like me, found me dull and boring and not glamorous enough, and it's just a pack of lies.

Or maybe it's me.

You know what I wish? Let's pretend we're not on a date. Let's pretend we're friends. Let's pretend we're not both judging each other in overly critical ways. Let's pretend we like each other. Then maybe, maybe, you'll see a different person sitting in that oversized chair next to you, and maybe you'll like her enough to stop pretending.

Stop It!

Day after Rosh Hashana.
You know it's bad for you.
You just resolved to change
yesterday!
Don't look.
Why care?
You're pathetic.
What a pervert.
Why are you giving in?
Stop looking!
It's not for you.
You're beyond this.
You're bigger than this.
Why do you give in?
Why don't you even fight?
Why do you stoop so low?
Why are you even interested?
What are you waiting for?
Stop!
No, you can't wait.
You can't push it off.
No excuse.
What's wrong with you?
Just don't do it!

Dare to Dream

Watch Dare to Dream

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Remember when life was full of hope and dreams...

Remember that? Remember when you were young, and you dreamed of the life you'd lead? Remember the rosy pictures, the happy times, the youthful exuberance and joy? Don't you wish you could get those feelings back? Maybe you can...

Rosh Hashana is the time to dream again, when all of creation starts anew.

Maybe now's your chance, maybe now's your opportunity, maybe you can recapture it. Maybe you don't need to feel the weight of the past, the limitations, the cynicism...

Maybe you can feel just the pure potential of life.

Maybe...

On Rosh Hashana, God grants the gift of life to anyone who truly yearns for it.

Do you yearn for it? Do you truly yearn for it? Deep down? Have you forgotten that life is a gift? Have you forgotten what life is? Have you forgotten that you can live life without conditions, and you can live it happily, even if it doesn't fit that picture you once created in your mind, and even if it's hard, so hard, sometimes?

What are the dreams and goals you long for?

What are they? C'mon. You can still have dreams and goals. You're allowed. Even if it looks like they might never happen, even if every opportunity and hope you have keeps on getting dashed, even if the future looks like it'll have more and more closed doors...dream. Don't ever forget to dream, and maybe...maybe try a little to make those dreams come true.

The shofar is blowing...

Do you hear it? Maybe your time is now. You need to ask, though! Reach out, pray, and...never give up.

Now's the time...wake up and live your dream.

Just Can't Win

Someone told me a story yesterday about a shidduch she redt. They went out for coffee in Manhattan, and he proceeded to be busy with his Blackberry and computer the whole time, and to add insult to injury, he didn't even buy her a coffee!

And then came the stinger:
"And now, she's happily married, and he's still single. That tells you something!"

Ouch.

Okay, putting my heightened sensitivities to the side for half a second, there's no question he's a jerk. And to be perfectly honest, I might even say something like that myself. Buts something in me still got stung from the "That tells you something!" Really? And what exactly would that be? Jerks stay single and nice folks get married? Is the assumption that anyone single must have a serious issue, jerkiness or otherwise, or else they would be married? Does that mean that there are only wonderful people married, because if they wouldn't be, they would never have managed to get there?

I'm not going to deny that there's plenty in me that could be improved and that would increase my marriageability profile. But the same could be said about every guy and girl who's married. No one's perfect. So why is it that marriage or lack of it is used as a barometer of success? I remember a friend telling me after her marriage that her mother met an old teacher, and the teacher was shepping such nachas, because her recalcitrant student was now "married and living in Lakewood." So? What does that say about her? Does her marriage and place of residence prove that she is now a mature, solid, frum girl?

It almost seems as if singles are damned if they do, damned if they don't. If they don't have an exciting job, don't seem to change much, and aren't anything so special, then "why isn't she using all this time on her hands to make something of herself?" But then, if she actually becomes successful in her career, then it's "nebech, she has so much free time, she's married to her job." If she's unhappy, then it's "nebech, she's getting older and depressed." If she's too happy, then it's nebech too, "she doesn't know what she's missing; she's getting too settled in her ways." Everything she does is tainted by the knowledge that she hasn't been successful in getting married.

I don't know. Whatever. You can't win for losing. What can you do? Whatever it is, a girl who isn't married shouldn't even think of growing a tougher skin to ward off the attitudes of the world, because then it's "she's gotten old, bitter, and tough! Who wants her?"


;-)

What a Girl Wants

Okay people, I have a confession here.

You know how "they" say that when someone really, and that means really, wants to get married, it'll happen?

So I think I maybe don't really want to get married.

Oh sure, I want to, but I'm not desperate to, and quite proudly so. My life is moving along pretty smoothly, maybe too smoothly (bli ayin hara), and I only want to get married to someone I'll like and be attracted to and respect.

Seems that every shidduch wants me to compromise on one of the three. We have the bland/hard-working variation, the geshmak/portly version, and the pleasant professionals. The fourth type, the good-looking, smart, personable Ben Torah, doesn't want to go out with me (or at least they think they don't).

Recently, two guys have wanted to go out with me (or at least they think they do). And I've managed to turn them both down for cosmetic reasons.

Pretty shallow for a deep girl, don't you think?

I think I might be at the point when people should start getting nervous about me. I'm getting too cocky, too confident, and too...too...the P word.

But maybe I just know what I want, and I know it's out there. I know it. I keep thinking there must be a way to bridge the gap between me and them, and if I think hard enough, and have the right people on my team, we'll get there eventually.

Maybe I'm wrong. I probably am. G-d help me wake up and hear time whizzing past me, and fast.

Better Than the Same

I started this blog at the beginning of a trying period in my life. For the first half a year or so, my posts were pretty serious, sad, downtrodden...and what was going on in my life was not necessarily reflected in the posts. Sure they were usually about shidduchim, and everything written in them is true and portrayed real emotions I was feeling, but oftentimes it wasn't really what was bothering me. Oftentimes it was just the cover story. A true cover story, but a cover story nonetheless.

But Baruch Hashem, it's eased. Those emotions, what was displayed and what wasn't, have dissipated. And as time goes on, it gets better and better. Six months ago was a million times better than a year ago, and a month ago was a million times better than that. And now? It almost can't get any better. And it isn't even a return to pre-trying times. It's a return to years ago, to a lightheartedness and a freedom and a clarity I've long been missing.

So this is what I have to say to you:

Hashem's ways are mysterious.

Hashem's ways are wondrous.




And very, very wondrous...

To all of you out there who are still struggling and are still trying to hold on, who feel their fingers unclasping and you're losing your grip...hold on just a little longer, because there is hope! You can overcome! You can triumph! You can emerge stronger and better. B'ezras Hashem...the best is yet to come.

Still the Same

A couple weeks ago, I was fantasizing about the post I would write when I would get engaged. In my dreams, it started something like this:

Hashem's ways are mysterious.

Hashem's ways are wondrous.

Well, here I am, and it looks like I'm not going to be getting engaged anytime soon. But, I still have this to tell you:

Hashem's ways are mysterious.

Hashem's ways are wondrous.




And very, very mysterious...

May we all share in simchos together, very soon.

"Missed" Opportunity

Yesterday, I was approached by a black woman whom I've met before. She asked me how a relative of mine who lives in Israel is, and I told her that she's okay, as Jerusalem is pretty okay at this point. She then shook her head, and said, "They need to STOP, both of them. They need to stop! Nobody deserves to die, on either side.* That's why they need a truce! So you shouldn't be afraid to go,** and I shouldn't be afraid to go."

I just smiled at her. And then she walked away, and I walked away. I went into another room, closed the door, and just sat there, for a few minutes, absorbed in thought.

This was your chance to tell the world! Why did you just take that? You could've said something! This was your moment!

But you know something? There was no moment, and that's why I didn't say anything. What can I say in ten seconds or less, to this simple, not-so-intelligent woman? How can I explain to her within her attention span that the other side doesn't want to stop, will never want to stop, and that their civilians aren't so innocent? How do you explain decades of conflict, decades of hatred, and decades of indoctrination to a peace-loving Western mind?

So I didn't bother. Someone who wants to learn the truth, will use their mind and ears and eyes to see reality. Those who want to live in a bubble where all women*** and children are good, and all people who kill them are bad, don't want to be removed from it. It's more comfortable for them in there, and less scary. Why confront evil in its purest form if you don't have to? The bubble feels better.

And it feels better for me to know that the war will not be won by convincing the minds of the people on the street. It will, and can, only be won by our prayers, our learning, our good deeds, and unity amongst us.


* Is she G-d, to make the determination who deserves to die?
** I didn't know I'm afraid to go.
*** Why is that, that in today's day of equality of the sexes, when it comes to people dying in war, the blood of women is worth so much more than the blood of men?

Our Soldiers

On September 3rd, 2008, Sarah Palin gave her acceptance speech at the Republican National Covention, accepting her nomination as the Republican vice presidential candidate. In that speech, she talked about her children. The child she talked about most was her oldest, Track, who is in the U.S. Army and was deployed to Iraq on September 11th. As she spoke about how proud she was of him, the camera kept on moving in on his face.

Watching that footage, I remember looking at him, trying to note his imperceptible facial expressions, wondering what was going through his mind. Does he know what being on the battlefield really means? Does he realize he can die? Is he scared? Is he going to make it out okay?

Throughout that day, I kept on thinking about him--and then I thought: He's one of thousands. There are thousands of other soldiers like him, putting their lives on the line every day, and there are thousands of other soldiers who have sacrificed their lives for their country. He's just the one whose face we see, who has been made human for us.

Then it struck me: There are thousands of Jewish soldiers in Eretz Yisroel, who are just as much real people, putting their lives on the line every day, for the peace and security of Klal Yisroel and Eretz Yisroel.

I remember thinking that I wish there could be a blog or website that would humanize these soldiers for us, tell us about them, show us their pictures, and then maybe American Jews would care a little more, daven a little more, feel more connected.

I wanted to write about it.

******************

I never did get around to writing about it. And now here we are, five months later, and the Israeli soldiers are becoming all too real to us. Unfortunately, the ones we get to see the pictures of and hear about are the ones we can no longer see in this world.

There are thousands of our soldiers out there on the front lines, in booby-trapped alleyways and bomb-rigged homes. What are they thinking? What are they feeling? Are they scared?

******************

I walk around, here in the U.S., and watch regular life going on. I feel like I'm living on a different planet. I look at the people, and inside I feel like calling out to them, engaging them, telling them the truth. I want them to know about all the lies being perpetuated, I want them to know that their own security is on the line now, not just that of seven million Jews. I want them to care.

But really, how can I want that? They're my brothers and sisters, not theirs. Why should they care about my family? A non-Jew asked me the other day if anyone I know is in direct danger in Israel, and I told her no. I realized afterward that that was the wrong answer. Yes, there are thousands of members of my family in direct danger! I may not know them personally, but my neshama and theirs go way back together, all the way to Sinai.

******************

A little voice inside of me protests against my warm words. You say they're family, huh? Then why, if you were in Israel, and some cool kid with spiked gelled hair and tight jeans came close to you on the bus, you'd breathe in and try to move away? Would you do that to your brother? Why are you repulsed by that old immigrant woman, who has on a million layers and bags and smells? Would you be repulsed by your grandmother?

I still have a lot of growing up to do.

******************

But for now, from afar, I feel connected. And I worry, and daven, and check the news constantly. I go to sleep with it, and I wake up with it.

There may be thousands of them, but they're each individuals--individuals who are loved, who have hopes and dreams, and who want to do their part to keep us all safe.

May Hashem watch over each and every one of them, and may each and every one return to their families and Klal Yisroel safely.

And may Hashem keep all of His children safe, wherever they may be.

This Year

Yesterday, two women wished me a Happy New Year. I returned the wish, and I realized that both of them have had a pretty crummy past year. One's husband had a heart attack and the other got divorced from her husband. And that set me thinking...

Although I don't celebrate this holiday, there are so many people I know who have really suffered in the past year.

There's the family who lost their mother.
There's the woman who broke up with a guy she's been dating for months.
There's the guy who lost his job.
There's the teenager who's been diagnosed with cancer.
There's the relative who still hasn't gotten pregnant.
There's the acquaintance who's been evicted from her home.

But...
This year has seen the engagements and marriages of more people I care about than any other year.
This year has seen the pregnancy of a friend who's been waiting for too many years.
This year has seen the spiritual development and maturation in some young adults I know.
This year has seen the births of quite a few adorable little people to friends and relatives.
This year has seen happiness, success, and fulfillment.
This year has seen blessings, love, and growth.

Maybe this year was good, after all. :-)

Real Problems

Horrific terror attacks...falling stock markets...major financial institutions crumbling...skyrocketing unemployment rates...rising inflation...soaring prices...home foreclosures...young people dying...teenagers with cancer...global security threats...

A little trouble finding a guy to marry?

I have nothing to say.

Too Old to be Young

You've always thought of yourself as young--after all, you are young. You feel young, you (think you) look young, you consider yourself part of the "young, whole life ahead of you" crowd. But then slowly, little things start hitting you, and you have to acknowledge that no, you can't check off the 18-25 box anymore when filling out a form. You can't go out with a freezer boy. Chances are pretty high that you're not going to have a dozen kids.

All those medical issues that only happen to "old" people? Hey, you fit into that age bracket now! All those lotions and creams and eye serums...you realize that maybe you need to start looking into those.

High school? That was double digits ago, a lifetime away. Even seminary is a remote memory, a pleasant experience in your past, that has little to do with your current life.

Remember those "older girls" you knew as a kid? Remember when they got engaged? Oh my gosh, they were so old! But then you find yourself talking about someone who got married older...and you realize she was younger than you are now.

That weight you were planning on losing eventually? Well, you're still planning it, except you're forgetting that the older you get, the harder it's going to get to lose, and so you better get a move on it now.

It's happening. It's getting harder to deny. You're movin' on up. If your brain doesn't want to accept it, then your body will let you know, and if thankfully that's not happening, then the caliber of your dates won't let you forget it.

Take heart. It's not all doom and gloom. Along with age, comes wisdom, peace, serenity, an appreciation and acceptance of who you are...so they say. You looking forward to finding out?

Too Late

You've been wanting
hoping
dreaming
something
for years.

And then you're given it.

And you realize
you don't want it
anymore.

The Year...In Our Hands

On Rosh Hashana, the next year is going to be decided. The rest of 2008 and most of 2009 will be determined in just a few days.

On October 27th, will you meet the man you'll end up marrying?

On November 4th, will it be McCain or Obama for president?

On December 17th, will you celebrate your wedding?

On January 23rd, will there be a snowstorm?

On February 18th, will you get a raise at work?

On March 12th, will you get a cold?

On April 7th, will you be ready for Pesach?

On May 10th, will your car get a flat tire?

On June 24th, will you find a new friend?

On July 13th, will the results come back negative?

On August 2nd, will you make peace?

On September 8th, will you welcome your child into this world?

You can make a difference in what the coming year will bring. Don't underestimate your powers. Give your tefilos all you've got...because the next twelve months are hanging in the balance.

Think about everything that occurred in the past year...even in the past week! Would you ever have imagined it would go that way? And it was all decided last year.

So push yourself a little harder...daven a little stronger...get a little closer...and may we all be written down for a kesivah v'chasimah tovah, a gut, gezunt, gebentsht yur, and may we only share in simchos together!

Clean Up NOW!

So it's a week until Rosh Hashana. This is supposed to be clean-up-your-act time. This is supposed to be be-on-your-best-behavior time. This is supposed to be show-me-what-you've-got time.

Something's gotten lost in transmission here, because it's been far from that for me. I've been mean, petty, shallow, selfish, disrespectful, self-centered, stingy, and lazy the past few days. It's been go-to-your-room-for-that-behavior time, leave-the-classroom time, you're-fired time. I'm not exactly displaying my finest attributes.

I don't have a rebellious personality, but maybe a streak of that is peeking out of me. Maybe a little bit of a "Mary, Mary, quite contrary" side is slipping out.

Maybe I need to get myself in order FAST.

Too much is riding on my success.

A New View of Marriage

A few months ago, I saw a man insisting on making a coffee for his wife, after she said she was going to make one for herself. That small gesture blew me away. I'm in my upper 20s, have observed many a happy marriage, and something so small blew me away.

Isn't that sad? Why am I blown away by something seemingly insignificant? Because I was always taught that a wife has to give, give, give, and give more, and the only way to be a good wife is to do whatever he wants.

Husbands taking time out for their wives goes against everything I was taught in school. For years, it was drilled into me that a wife should never ask anything of her husband, a wife should always take care of everything herself, and that stealing any time from your husband, consequently stealing time from his learning, is a cardinal sin. I heard all the stories about gedolim's wives whose husbands didn't know what the inside of the kitchen looked like and who had never paid a bill. That's what we were supposed to emulate. If you ever entertained the thought that you couldn't possibly be WonderWoman, doing everything alone, how guilty you would feel, what a shame that you couldn't be one of those neshei chayil. So you'd knock it into yourself some more, that that's what you had to do to be a good person.

I was taught that a good wife does the will of her husband. If you have a difference of opinion, stuff it. Learn to bow to his wisdom. You're doing the best thing for your marriage and family and future by recognizing his role as the head of it all.

Is that what marriage is about? Isn't marriage about two individuals giving to each other? Why wasn't I taught that a good husband gives to his wife, not only in the next world but in this one as well? Why was I taught to feel bad if you can't manage on your own? Why wasn't I taught that marriage goes both ways, and that it's beautiful to have a partnership?

I want to give to him. I want him to be happy. But I want us to be partners, each doing what we can for the other. I don't want clear lines drawn in the sand of what's my role and what's his. I want to be in on this life together, equally. Yes, I want to become a more giving person, less into the "I" and more into the "you." But I don't want to lose who I am either.

So I'm learning. The past little while has been an eye-opening time for me. It's been a time of recognizing that I needed a new view on being a wife. It's been a time of recognizing what marriage is really all about. It's been a time of understanding what a couple can really do for each other.

And it's made it all look so much more attractive...

The Great Divide

Make a singles' community, they say. Find a bunch of like-minded women in their twenties and thirties, get together, hang out, have fun, make a life for yourselves. Find other unmarried women to talk to, to visit, to befriend.

But why on earth does there have to be such singles segregation?

Why is it that in frum society there are such clear lines of demarcation between marrieds and singles? Why can't we all be friends? Why can't the married people gain something from their friendships with their single friends, and why can't the single friends gain something from their friendships with their married friends (and dare I say...their spouses)? Why should there even be this idea that you need a singles' community? Married friends aren't available for traveling. I get that. But in every community, there are people who play different roles. It doesn't need to be fragmented. It doesn't need to be that we have a Singles Community, a Marrieds Community, a Divorced Community, a Childless Community, a Black Community, a White Community....

Maybe that was the approach of Booker T. Washington, but it didn't work. It's not a good idea for single women to hunker down in the basements of New York, to live their lives in the underground, only interacting with their own. We all need each other. Your marital status does not define who you are. You are a person, with strengths and weaknesses, likes and dislikes, idiosyncrasies and quirks. You have your mark to make, and it doesn't need to be confined to other women whose only similarity with you is that you both don't have that ring on your finger.

Sure, we all have our married friends, but are we a part of their community? Are we respected? Are we included? Or are we at the fringes, looking in from outside the club? It's not only about shmoozing with different people. It's about if you're viewed as an equal member of society, or if you need to be part of a separate singles' society. It's about being treated like a regular person, not as a halfway-there person.

Where does all this come from? Why has it evolved this way? Why is it, "my wife's friend, who's 29 and single, nebech, came over"? What does that have to do with her? Why isn't it, "my wife's friend came over"? Why does there have to be such segregation and discrimination? Who is it helping? What's it for?

I don't have the answers, but I'm surely not going to be the Martin Luther King, Jr., getting shot down trying to change it...

Constructive Waiting

Someone suggested the other day that I'm spending my time waiting, just waiting to get married. How I bristled at the idea! Me? Waiting? Only losers spend their time waiting, without doing anything valuable in the interim. I'm not one of those nineteen-year-old kids who has shidduchim on their mind all the time. People like that have always irked me, the people who think they know it all, who think they can make plans in life, who think they can buy a dress for their friend's wedding and it'll be good for their vort, who won't book a ticket to Israel "just in case."

But then I thought about it...and I think that someone might be right. Maybe it wouldn't have been true a few years ago, but it wouldn't be honest of me to say that I'm not waiting. I think I'm like the woman in the waiting room who's cleaning out her purse, checking her voice mail, calling her friend, reading a magazine...sure, she's making productive use of her time, but she's definitely waiting.

So that's me. I'm on the line. I'm often straining to hear my name being called. I'm hoping they'll hurry up and get to me already. I'm doing okay on the line, I'm not getting angry or frustrated, but I'm conscious that I'm not getting angry or frustrated. Staying calm and cool is sometimes easy, sometimes it takes effort. Sometimes I get so absorbed in the article I'm reading that I forget I'm on line.

I'm trying to do the best I can to make this time on the line worth something, that it shouldn't be lost minutes of my life. I want to be proud of myself when I finally get to the front. I want to be someone who stuck it out, who recognized that it's worth the wait. I want to be able to smile at the clerk who takes my number, and not be ashamed of my behavior while waiting.

So yes, I'm waiting. If that's good or bad is open to debate. But I hope I'm being the best wait-ee that I can be! :-)

"Make New Friends..."

My friend was just screaming at me that I need to go on vacation, I need to go to Europe, I need to do something, now I'm single, now is the time etc. etc. etc.

I argued with her that I don't need a vacation. I'm fine with my life right now. And anyway, I don't have anyone to do it with. That's always my line. And it's always the truth.

So she says that if I go on a tour, I'll meet people. Now, I don't want to go on a tour for other reasons, but I don't want to meet other people.

I don't want friends. I don't need friends. I'm good on my own.

They're too much trouble, too much pain, you invest in them and then either they or you move on. You have different expectations, different desires, different styles. The good ones are too hard to come by, and it's not worth weeding through the not-good ones. I've been down this path too many times already, and I can't do it anymore. I can't open myself up, share myself, and then lose it. I can't.

In some ways, this stance is good. It protects me. It buffers me. It forces me to take care of myself. It keeps my dignity intact. It keeps my mind clear. It keeps me away from emotional entanglement. I'm free.

And the plan is working pretty decently so far; I have my old friends who I speak to occasionally, and I'm standing on my own two feet. But sometimes...I can't admit this, but sometimes...well, sometimes. I try to push past those times, and sometimes it works...but sometimes it fails miserably.

And as much as I don't need them, I want to go to Europe. :-)

Waste of Time

Sometimes, life hits me. My life hits me. And it's embarrassing, so embarrassing. What do I have to show for it? I look at the number of years I've been here, and try to figure out what I've accomplished lately. I look at girls who are so much younger than me, and they've done so much more.

They've brought children into this world. They're raising them, feeding them, loving them, taking care of all their needs. They're cooking supper every night. They're managing finances. They're considering other people's needs and wants all the time. They're up at 3 a.m. with a crying baby. They know about pots, insurance, childbirth, mothers-in-law, and rental contracts.

But it's not only about marriage, because so many single women cook supper every night and deal with insurance and rental contracts. So many of them are volunteering hours of their time for others, making meaningful contributions through their work, giving to their families, and juggling all sorts of responsibilities.

And me? I'm just living my life. And it's a good one, and it's moving along nicely and smoothly...but when I look back at a block of time, what do I have to show for it? What have I done that's meaningful?

It frightens me, it saddens me. And yet I don't do anything to change it. I settle for the path of least resistance, do what's easy and comfortable...and then live with the shame afterwards.