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This is truly baring my soul, but many of you have shared your hearts with me, so you deserve to hear where I've come from, so here goes…
I dated a lot in my twenties. At first, it was just for fun.
I didn’t take any guy seriously. I never dated any man longer than three months. I was waiting to fall in love. The years went on and I felt nothing--or next to nothing. I began to wonder if I was capable falling in love. I had none of the
butterflies, giddiness, or ticklish feelings that everyone talked about.
I thought perhaps I was emotionally hardened to romance. Why couldn’t I feel anything for the men I dated? All
but four of them were really great—kind, respectful, gentle, caring. Should I
have married one of them? Would it have been settling? Should I have heeded the advice of friends and family and married one of them in spite of the lack of passion?
The sad truth is that, like so many young women, I hit
twenty-seven years of age and suddenly realized that my biological clock was
ticking. I hadn't even noticed it previously. I consciously prayed to God and made a decision then and there: I would marry the next
man I dated. Why not? Most men were decent enough. I had dated only one really mean guy. I would certainly never choose a guy like that. I was intelligent. I
couldn’t really go wrong, could I? I was never going to fall in love anyhow, so I settled. I married
the next man I dated. As you know from my previous blogs, the marriage was a
disaster. He was abusive, neglectful, we were poverty-stricken, and on and on. I
had made a terrible mistake.
There were a number of problems with the choice I made, and
people (both men and women) continue to make the same mistake:
1)
I didn’t trust in God. I stopped believing that He
had a bashert for me—a soulmate.
2)
I was afraid. I convinced myself that my
decision was based on intellect, but it was really fear—fear of never finding a
husband, fear of being alone for the rest of my life, fear of never having a children
or family.
3)
I was impatient. I didn’t want to wait for God’s
match for me.
4)
I was proud. I trusted in myself and considered
myself capable of making a wiser decision than God and others who tried to give
me wise advice.
5)
I was
impulsive. I acted without sufficient forethought and prayer.
6)
I was foolish. A wise woman would pay close
attention to red flags in a relationship. I ignored them all.
7)
I was gullible. A wise woman would do a
background check on her date and listen carefully to warnings from her friends.
I believed every lie my date (and later fiancé) told me.
8)
I stopped believing in love and romance. If I
had “settled” for one of the good, upstanding, loving gentlemen I had dated, I
might have experienced a slow, steady, growing love for him. Maybe it wouldn’t
have been a fiery, passionate start, but it would have been far wiser than the
choice I did make.
In re-reading Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis’ book, The Committed Life, she writes of the
wisdom of Jewish sages who taught that children should marry young, in order to
grow together and adjust to one another with ease. Young people have the best
opportunity of finding a good match and they should marry a compatible mate while
they have the chance and not wait to be in a position where they feel pressured
into settling.
Young women today are told they should first pursue their
careers, date, and travel the world. They put off marrying until their
biological clocks tick so loudly, they are overcome with the anxiety and stress
of having no marriage prospects later in life.[i]
I thought following my dreams and growing older would make me wiser when it came to finding my bashert, but I was wrong. When you meet a kind, good, loving, diligent, hard-working man, your friends and parents approve of him, your share the same faith, and you’ve done some private investigating and found him to be free of any serious vices (See my previous blog titled, “Identifying Abuse:Common Characteristics of the Man who Abuses”), you should prayerfully consider marrying that man, in spite of your lack of romantic feelings for him. I have learned the hard way that romance is not always what begins a relationship, but it can (and probably will) develop slowly and gently with time, effort, caring, and unconditional love and respect.
[i] Jungreis,
Rebbetzin Esther. "Matchmaker, Matchmaker." The Committed Life.
New York: HarperCollins World, 1999. 248. Print.
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