Q

I was on the bus in Israel last week. There was a young, frum couple with a baby in the opposite aisle and I was really shocked by how the husband was speaking to the wife. He was very impatient and irritable. At one point they got into an argument, and the wife said, “I didn’t say it like that...” and he said, “Yes you did. You can lie, but it only makes things worse....” The husband got off a few stops earlier than the wife to go to kollel. Being about a decade and a half older than this couple, I was debating whether to say something to the wife, that she doesn’t deserve to be treated that way and she should speak to a rav. But I didn’t have the guts, I didn’t want to embarrass her in public, and I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do, so I didn’t say anything. Should I have?

A

This is a perfect reminder that when we start at Chapter 26, we have no idea what happened in the 25 previous chapters. We have no idea what this couple’s history is or even what happened just prior to them getting on the bus. There are many instances where a scenario appears clear-cut, replete with good guys and bad guys. We all love a good victim, perpetrator, rescuer triangle where everyone plays their part to perfection. We especially feel a charge when we are the potential hero.

I’m not suggesting that you relished the possibility of being a rescuer. This was clearly an uncomfortable situation to witness, much more so to be a part of. But there is a rush of self-importance that needs to be checked before being so quick to judge a situation. We also need to explore whether a dynamic like this brings something up for us that needs attention.

It’s hard to know whether this was a case of “al taamod al dam reiecha” where you need to intervene to ensure someone’s safety, or a case of potentially embarrassing someone and causing them a different type of death. I can’t speak to the halachic consideration, but I can say that we need to tread carefully and by invitation when we enter someone’s personal space.

So this might leave you feeling helpless. Is there nothing we can do when we see someone being hurt?

Had this young woman given some indication that she wanted to share, that would be a whole different story — and it would be a great kindness to offer a listening ear. Please note that a listening ear and a judgmental tongue are not the same thing.

There is one thing you can do is restore a small piece of the dignity she may have lost in this interaction. A warm smile, a kind comment about her cute baby, a compliment about her eyes, will let her know that someone sees her as a Tzelem Elokim and will hopefully abate some of the sting of the humiliation.

What we can do is be kind and respectful to each other. We can be part of creating a culture in which speaking to others with respect is the norm. We can be part of educating ourselves and others about what constitutes healthy relationships. And we can daven for all the people out there who are not receiving that respect.

Q

I am devastated. I was cleaning out my daughter’s room and a piece of paper fell out of one of her notebooks entitled, “Things My Mother Does That I Will Never Do.” What do I do?

A

Laminate it and save it for a specific day 20 years from now when she is doing at least six out of the eight things to her own kids. Have it mysteriously appear in her house on that day.

Alternatively, try to find the list you wrote about your own mother and see if you can spot any differences or if it’s literally the same.

In either case, don’t sweat it. It’s a rite of passage. By the way, did she list “cleaning my kids’ room” as one of the things she will never do? Just wondering.

Q

My daughter and I have always enjoyed a really strong relationship. She’s always felt comfortable with me, and there’s a mutual respect between us. She’s in 12th grade now, and all the girls are talking about is seminary. She’s been talking to a few of the teachers, and then coming home and talking it over with me. Her teachers are recommending a high-pressure, text-based learning environment, but my husband and I feel she would do better in a more relaxed, hashkafah-focused atmosphere. I know she wants to emulate her teachers (they are indeed great people), and we support that, but as her mother I’m the one who sees her at night when she’s stressing over homework. I believe my husband and I are better equipped to guide her here. What should we do?

A

Ahh, seminary… welcome to the challenges and the blessings. And you haven’t even sent her yet.

Before we address your actual dilemma let’s say a word about the seminary experience. Okay, a sentence. Seminary is huge, but it’s not everything. There. I said it. Yes, seminary has the potential to set a girl on a path that will shape her future. It has the ability to introduce and solidify hashkafos that will im yirtzeh Hashem inform many of her life decisions. AND… she also has a life preceding this special year and, with Hashem’s help, many years following it. While I have not told you anything you don’t know, it’s important to approach this dilemma in context, without attributing too much or too little import to wherever she ends up.

The question to ask yourself at this point is: What do I hope to accomplish by making my opinion known? I’m assuming you hope to change your daughter’s mind. As parents we often have insight into our children’s behavior that they might not have themselves. Our protective instincts want to shield our children from anything that might hurt them. But at some point, we have to distinguish between damage and discomfort.

As the wise Aliza Bulow taught me, our role as parents shifts from director to supervisor to consultant. The thing about a consultant is that he is hired by the customer because he is seen as a professional who adds value. He is brought in by choice because his expertise is worth enough to even pay for it. One becomes a consultant by invitation, not by force.

Arguably, frum parents are late (reluctant?) to relinquish their earlier roles and slide into their consulting role. Perhaps you are one of those frum parents. But relinquish we must. To raise healthy adults means to raise children who learn how to make their own decisions; one of the most important parts of that process is doing adequate, objective research.

The tricky part of being a parent is that because you love your child deeply, you know her like no one else does. That also means you have a blind spot that no one else has, and you relate to her like no one else does. When you see her struggling with homework at night you don’t just see a child struggling; you might also be feeling her pain. You might be unable to determine whether the struggle is damaging or just uncomfortable and perhaps even stretching her. Your daughter’s teachers, who see her in a different context and who are not emotionally connected to her struggles, might see a potential that you don’t.

I agree that you know your daughter like no one else. What I’m challenging is whether that unidimensional perspective is the only one, or even the most important one, to consider when making a decision about her education. If her teachers are all pushing her in a certain direction perhaps it’s worth hearing why they feel that way.

In either case, it seems like your job at this point is to become the person whose counsel and expertise she seeks. How can you make your opinions intriguing enough that she wants to hear them as opposed to getting locked into a battle of us vs. them? Can you provide a warm, flowing environment that is conducive to conversation, perhaps when the two of you are driving somewhere together, and use that opportunity to truly listen? Perhaps you can ask if she is open to hearing other factors to consider. Do what you can to create a conversation as opposed to a contest.

Finally, can you let go enough to let her make a less-than-optimal decision? Hopefully all the seminaries she is considering are quality institutions where she will grow, and not chas v’shalom experience a yeridah. Assuming that’s the case, this might be a real opportunity for your daughter to experience the process of decision-making.

Oh, and while you’re doing all that, be kind to yourself. It’s not easy transitioning from supervisor to consultant. The rules are not clear, the dates are not set, and it varies from child to child. Ultimately, it’s the next stage of your journey as a parent. Wishing you a smooth sail.

Sara Eisemann, LMSW, ACSW, is a licensed therapist,  Directed Dating coach, and certified Core Mentor.

Have a question or scenario where you want Sara’s insight and perspective? Now we’re talking! Send your questions to  familyfirst@mishpacha.com. This column will appear monthly.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 924)

The post “Should I Have Said Something?”      first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

Q

It feels like the local shul, school, and Neshei are always scheduling a million events, lectures, get-togethers, and speeches about cheshbon hanefesh and parenting and tefillah and and and. I just want to be home or out with my kids, being an actual parent.

Is that a copout or a legit approach? Does it matter? If a local institution hosts something, is there some sort of obligation to attend (especially if itÕs one that’s affiliated with my kids)?

A

Go to the park with your kids. Betcha the parenting expert is going to tell you that the most important thing you can do with your child is… spend time with him.

Q

I’m in the unenviable position of having to choose between the needs of two children, and I am really torn. My oldest daughter confided in me that she is going through a serious depression and is having trouble coping. She is unable to manage even the most basic housekeeping and her kids are beginning to really feel it. She asked if I would be willing to come for a couple weeks to help out and to restore the family equilibrium. She has not shared her challenge with any of her siblings and has asked me to keep it confidential.

In the meantime, my second daughter is due any day now. She was planning to move into my home for about two weeks after being discharged from the hospital. I think she’ll be fine without me. Her husband is extremely supportive (read: not afraid to throw in a load of laundry and/or hold the baby) and she has a strong network of friends. So it’s less about needing my actual help and more about feeling I’m there for her. I wish I could clone myself; they each legitimately need me. I feel like the stakes are high in both scenarios and I need to get this right. I don’t know how I’m supposed to make this decision. Help!

A

Ahh, the life of a frum woman. The needs of everyone around us are pressing and relentless. Most of the time, we do a great job of keeping most of the balls in the air. But sometimes all that juggling isn’t enough. Sometimes we feel like something is going to fall and all we can do is daven that it doesn’t shatter when it does.

Before I can respond intelligently to this conundrum, I need some background information. What was your relationship like with both of your daughters prior to this dilemma? You say, “I need to get this right,” which makes me wonder why the stakes are so high. Is there some history here that adds more gravity to the situation and makes “getting it right” imperative? Does your second daughter somehow always end up coming in second to your oldest? Is she the “good child” who makes no trouble and ends up forgotten? Does your older daughter have a history of struggling, and if so, what has your response been to her until now?

The answers to all these questions would certainly inform my response. In general, when we have a long and regular history of deposits in our relationship bank, one singular withdrawal doesn’t usually make it or break it. While it’s true that each of your daughters is experiencing a huge event, and would benefit from your being physically present for each of them, it’s also true that relationships can survive even a crisis when there is enough goodwill.

I wonder if your older daughter would reconsider sharing her secret. The secrecy adds an incredible burden and unnecessary extra pressure all around. She might be surprised and relieved to find out that the rest of her family is also there to support her. At the very least, it will help you explain to your younger daughter why your ability to be there for her is compromised. Creating a culture of sharing and mutual support can be a huge gift to your family.

Only you can answer what the different relationship considerations are and thereby decide which relationship needs the most nurturing right now. But in addition to the relationship component, there is also the very real practical component. Each of your daughters needs help. Is it possible to arrange and pay for cleaning help? Do they have friends who might consider organizing a meal train? Can you make and freeze some food in advance? Perhaps you could create a loving welcome home package filled with pampering items and treats for your daughter when she gets home from the hospital. You can be in constant touch by phone or text. There are many ways to “be there” for someone, even when you can’t physically be there, and people can tell when you really care.

I am also curious about your husband’s role here. Is he available to step in and take over? Sometimes the secure, solid presence of Tatty can be reassuring in a different way than Mommy. Do you have teens or young adults who might be able to help? Again, creating a culture of family collaboration gives your family the gift of being grounded. There is something extremely reassuring and comforting about belonging to a greater whole and feeling that you’re not doing life alone. And finally, where do your daughters’ in-law families fit into the picture here? Are you able to stagger help so you can alternate and be by each of your daughters’ sides?

Perhaps the decision here does not need to be all or nothing. Maybe you can find ways to be present in different forms. Yes, it will take creativity and finesse, but ultimately your daughters will sense how much you care. May Hashem give you the wisdom, the koach, and the resources to nurture each of your children in the way that they need. And may you take great comfort in the fact that when they’re feeling vulnerable, it’s their Mommy that they want.

Q

I have a 19-year-old niece who will be starting shidduchim soon. She’s a lovely girl, but she suffers from terrible acne. My own children also had terrible acne until they began taking Accutane, but they had incredible results and now their skin is almost entirely clear. Should I mention something to my sister or is that just a rude breach of boundaries? My sister is not into these things, and I doubt she’s ever heard of Accutane.

A

It’s funny how some of our best intentions are not always as well received as we’d imagine… especially when it involves our children. Every mother has a bit of a blind spot when it comes to her child. Many mothers can’t see flaws in their children, but even for those who do, they can convince themselves that no one else sees them. Hearing them pointed out can be exceedingly painful. A mother’s blind spot is how Hashem created us and has probably significantly contributed to the human ability to survive beyond childhood.

So unless you have one of these tough, brutally frank relationships with your sister, where you mutually agree to tell all, you’re probably taking a big risk bringing up something this personal and vulnerable. On the other hand, this could really help your niece. So what’s a girl to do?

I wonder if this needs to involve your sister at all. Is it possible to have one of your daughters mention it in passing when the cousins are talking? Perhaps a general conversation about the woes of adolescence, which includes a detailed description of “skin travails and what we can do about them,” is the kinder way to go. This way your girls can normalize skin problems and offer solutions without personalizing it, and without the shaming that goes along with pointing it out.

It will most likely be better received by your niece than by your Mama Bear sister.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 913)

The post Now We’re Talking: Issue 913 first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

Q:

On the scale of terrible life events, this probably rates less than a 1, but I’d appreciate some guidance nonetheless, because, honestly, my last nerve is shot. My 17-year-old daughter has recently embraced “clean eating.” This not being my first rodeo, I went along with it. In fact, if I do say so myself, I’ve been quite the trouper, giving her free rein in the kitchen and even considering remortgaging the house to pay for her organic products.

But I’m struggling with hearing my cooking defamed. Telling my other children that the food I’m serving is poison and filled with toxins is crossing a line. Just so you understand the magnitude of the issue — we went from needing a full 9x13 of potato kugel on Erev Shabbos to a mini loaf pan for my husband, who has remained steadfast and loyal to me (and my kugel).

How do I respect her deeply held beliefs while maintaining my dignity and the dignity of my food?

A:

Years ago I had a wise supervisor who used to refer to difficult situations and failures as RLE’s: Rich Learning Experiences. I believe your dilemma is one such example of an RLE. Hashem has provided you a rich opportunity to teach your daughter and the rest of your children about the proper way to disagree.

You can teach them about respectful dialogue, about discussing ideas without being disparaging, about the relative value of objects and ideas, and that few things in life are black-and-white. Your kitchen has become a lab in which to study the art of mutual respect even as we hold certain ideas dear. This is a chance to talk about gratitude, to explain that we can  appreciate what we have and what people do for us even when things are not exactly as we wish.

It sounds like it’s time for a conversation about mutual respect. It might surprise her to hear that you don’t necessarily think “clean eating” is the be-all and end-all, but that you’re supporting her because it’s important to her. Let her know that you would like that respect in return, as your house is one that is run on respect.

And if all that fails, hand her the apron and tell her she is welcome to cook all meals for the family from here on in, while you quietly sip your Slurpee on the deck.

Q:

When I got married a few months ago, my sisters all told me that Oldest Sister expects frequent phone calls. I was a good girl and called as often as I could, until I realized that I really didn’t enjoy these calls, which were basically Oldest Sister monologues about everything under the sun, from unsolicited household and marriage advice to running updates on everything going on in her life, along with her strong opinions about what all of the people she knew were doing wrong. I barely got a word in edgewise.

So I started calling less often. Now, I give her a call once every couple of weeks, when I know I have the patience and headspace to listen to her for an hour.  I’ve now become one of the people she complains about to my mother and sisters, and she accuses me of being cold and cutting her out of my life. How can I explain that my idea of a wholesome sisterly relationship is not the same as hers? Or should I be going back to the frequent calls to keep the peace?

A:

Let us discuss this “peace” of which you speak. The Chofetz Chaim elaborates on the halachah that permits telling a white lie for the sake of peace, citing the pasuk “Midvar sheker tirchak — Distance yourself from sheker, falsehood.” He explains that machlokes is sheker. While one cannot tell an outright lie, if one evades the truth to avoid machlokes, he is actually operating in the true definition of emes.

I guess I’m wondering which part of complaining about others, speaking lashon hara about them, and just general negativity qualifies as bringing more peace to the world.

Old roles die hard and growing older does not guarantee growing up. I wonder if this dynamic is as old as your family. It sounds as though your sisters have choreographed a dance with Oldest Sister smack in the middle of the circle, deciding at any moment who gets let in the inner circle and who does not. I don’t know if this is a role she has played forever, but sometimes stepping out of the circle and into a new one (your marriage) allows you a whole new perspective. And what seemed like a graceful cha-cha-cha can suddenly feel like a lot of people in heels tiptoeing around each other — or worse, stepping on each other.

With the gift of your perspective comes the responsibility to make a conscious, healthy choice that is best for you and your new family. They (he) are your new priority. How are you when you get off the phone with Oldest Sister? Are you in the sort of positive frame of mind that you want to infuse your home with? Do you feel energized and motivated to see the good in everyone, including your new husband? Or quite the opposite?

I thought so.

We need to redefine peace. It’s not just an absence of conflict; it means a place of shleimus. The current dynamics do not support wholeness or health — not in you, and not in your family. No one likes a troublemaker — there’s a reason you’ve been a “good girl” for so long — but it takes great courage to initiate change and to rock the boat when the ship is cruising along a stream of negativity. The day you learn that it’s okay if not everyone is happy with you all the time is the day you become free to really do ratzon Hashem.

I am not advocating causing a seismic shift and great dramatic waves in the family system. I’m talking about quietly and consistently staying true to your values and gently living by the boundaries that you seem to intuitively possess — and then drawing on your inner strength when you get pushback. Oldest Sister may not like it. That’s okay.

No one else seems to know it’s okay. They’re all still living by the unwritten code of family law that says it’s not okay to displease Oldest Sister (or maybe anyone at all, for that matter, I don’t know, I didn’t see the codebook). But I am here to tell you that it is okay to gently put a stop to unhealthy behavior. It is okay to believe that you and your family are capable of holding each other to a higher standard. I don’t know enough about the full dynamic, but perhaps you can be an agent of change by asking your sisters to respond neutrally the next time your oldest sister complains about you. “I really don’t feel comfortable talking about Chani. If you’re upset with her, maybe talk to her directly.”

In this great discomfort lies equal and opposite potential for true peace. Wishing you the strength to pursue it and the serenity to know that doing the right thing trumps being a “good girl.”

Q:

I was recently talking to my mother about my younger brother, who’s starting shidduchim, and she was carrying on about the type of girl who would befit a bochur of his stature. My younger brother confides in me quite a bit and I think my mother would be pretty surprised if she knew where he was really holding. Is it my job to adjust her view?

A:

Your job is to encourage your brother to have a more open conversation with his mother about where he’s really holding. For everyone’s sake.

And don’t be surprised if your mother is not as naive as she pretends to be when she’s talking about her prized baby son.

Sara Eisemann, LMSW, ACSW, is a licensed therapist,  Directed Dating coach, and certified Core Mentor.

Have a question or scenario where you want Sara’s insight and perspective? Now we’re talking! Send your questions to  familyfirst@mishpacha.com. This column will appear monthly.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 900)

The post “My Daughter Now Only Eats ‘Clean Cooking’ — and Insults Mine” first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

My sisters-in-law and I are super close, but they don’t know that we’ve been struggling with parnassah ever since my husband lost a huge account at work a few months ago, and he forbids me from telling them. They’re planning a short girls’ getaway with our mother-in-law for a big birthday she has coming up, but I straight up can’t afford to join. What should we do?

Answer

I’m going to need some definition of terms here. When you say, “super close,” do you mean you share memes all day but have no idea what’s actually going on in each others’ lives? Or do you mean you share deep thoughts and feelings and feel connected emotionally?

Also, about that “we” in “What should we do?” Does that mean your husband is willing to be part of this solution?

Seems to me that you and your husband need to have a conversation. I like to adjoin a “yes” to a “no” whenever I can. When your husband asks you to refrain from telling them about your current financial status, does he also suggest another possibility for what you can say to them? What are his thoughts about how to celebrate his mother’s milestone birthday?

It seems like you’ve been thrust into the middle of an untenable dilemma where you really want to protect your husband’s dignity, and yet you still need to show up in a way you can’t. Have the two of you discussed this? Is there a way you can share your dilemma that shows him that his wishes are your priority, but that you need him to be part of the solution?

Once the two of you brainstorm, let’s get back to you and your super close sisters-in-law. Do you have the sort of relationship where someone can make a request and the rest of the clan accepts it without explanation? Can you say that you really want to be part of the celebration but that this year you need to stay local? Let their imaginations go where they might; maybe they’ll assume finances, maybe they’ll think one of your kids is struggling, maybe they’ll think you’ve developed a secret fear of flying. The point is, they won’t really know. And perhaps if they agree to stay local, you can offer to do something inexpensive that will really make the occasion special, like a Snapfish album with a message from every child and grandchild.

There are some families that would respect that without further inquiry and others that would prod. If you belong to the latter, would your husband consider letting you confide in just one sister-in-law, perhaps one who might be able to pay your share until you can repay it? I’m not generally an advocate of spending money you don’t have, but you and your husband would have to decide if this is something worth doing it for.

There are plenty of sly alternatives to this dilemma, but I’m not a fan of any of them. I believe conflicts like this are a rich opportunity for deep and meaningful connection. This is your chance to demonstrate to your husband that you are on his team, that his needs come first, and that you need him to be part of the solution. Ideally, on his own, he would come to the conclusion that there is no shame in parnassah struggles — money comes and money goes, as per Hashem’s decree — and he would consider being honest with his sisters. But if not, the two of you can still be partners in coming up with a plan that allows you to be part of celebrating your mother-in-law.

My cousin has a home catering business, and I’m making my first bar mitzvah. I should probably patronize her, but objectively speaking, her food just isn’t as good as the competition’s. Do I need to suffer to be a good cousin?

Answer

TO paraphrase and mangle an otherwise great quote: Catering is inevitable, suffering is optional.

All kidding aside, if you approach this chesed as a martyr, neither of you will end up feeling good about it. Giving someone parnassah is the highest level of chesed, and doing this for your cousin is a huge gift. But it needs to feel right for you, or the resentment will mar any good feelings.

Is there some way to create a hybrid event? Perhaps you can let her do the hospitality/toameha on Erev Shabbos and get your preferred caterer for the kiddush and seudos. And never underestimate the power of communication. You can do her a real chesed by providing direction and feedback that could improve her business.

If you can stretch and do this with a full heart, go for it. And in the zechus of your good cousinship, may you experience no suffering.

I have a friend who is more of a meek, submissive type, a real people-pleaser with a tendency to put herself down. I know her marriage isn’t great, but I don’t get involved. The other day, however, we were talking, and she told me that her husband made some comments about her weight. Later, when they were talking about Yom Tov expenses, he said, “Well, I would happily pay you 500 dollars if you could just lose 20 pounds.” I was horrified — but once again I kept my mouth shut. Am I enabling a bad dynamic by not saying in a forceful way, “This is not okay, and you should let him know that you won’t tolerate it”?

Answer

Ouch. That’s hard to hear.

Imagine how hard it was for her to hear. And to hear on a regular basis. And how humiliating it will be for her to realize that someone just got a glimpse into the pain that is her marriage.

Sometimes we want to jump in and say something to make ourselves feel better. To feel like we did something. Like we were part of bringing about change.

But that is not how change really works.

Change is a slow fermenting process that thrives in a warm, safe environment. The emphatic “This is not okay” and “You should (fill in the blank)” will leave you feeling like you did your good deed for the day, but will likely leave your friend feeling filled with shame. And most likely shut her down from ever confiding in you again.

A soft, gentle, and compassionate smile that shows you heard and felt her pain is much more likely to make her feel safe and more willing to share with you in the future. After you smile, you can gauge whether she received that message, and perhaps share a small “Ouch” to indicate that you get how that must have hurt.

The truth is that you have no idea what she should or shouldn’t do. Chances are you are not privy to the dynamics they share behind closed doors. You are not enabling unhealthy dynamics — they already exist. What you are doing by providing a warm and inviting response is creating a space wherein she can actually share with someone when and if she feels ready to.

And that is something you “should” do.

Sara Eisemann, LMSW, ACSW, is a licensed therapist, Directed Dating coach, and certified Core Mentor.

Have a question or scenario where you want Sara’s insight and perspective? Now we’re talking! Send your questions to  familyfirst@mishpacha.com. This column will appear monthly.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 890)

The post “My Husband Won’t Let Me Tell Anyone He Lost His Job — Even His Family” first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

My question is about straws and how much they really say about the person you’re dating.

I am a 22-year-old bochur who just started shidduchim, and I am puzzled by the multitude of spoken and unspoken rules. It’s a davar yadua that on the first date you only bring water because it’s possible she doesn’t like Snapple, and then she’ll be thirsty and you’ll be the inconsiderate guy who didn’t make sure she had something to drink. There’s also the possibility that she doesn’t drink any sugar-laden drinks, but you certainly don’t want to be the guy who brought the Diet Snapple. So water it is, until you find out what she likes. And of course, you’d have to be a real boor to forget straws because what does it say about a girl if you think she drinks straight from a water bottle?

So my question is this: Should I be following these rules because they make some sense and make me look good? Or should I just be who I am and risk a rejection because she might come home cranky and dehydrated? All kidding aside, I’m questioning the uniformization of behavior on dates. What is its value and what are the costs of just being like everyone else? I’m a pretty independent thinker, but I also want to give myself my best shot. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this matter.

Would Rather Be Drinking a Coke

Dear Rather,

TO be me or not to be me, that is the question.

And the answer is — yes, you should be yourself. The very best version of yourself that you can be. If you are generally a thoughtful person and this is a great way to be thoughtful, go for it.

Rules are a lot like clichés. They came about for a reason. And like clichés, sometimes they apply and sometimes they don’t. Your job is to figure out how this rule originated and whether it serves you in this particular instance. If it makes sense to bring nice, neutral, can’t-go-wrong-with-it water on a first date, then bring water on the first date.

If, however, the “rule” makes no sense or completely doesn’t vibe with who you are, you are not obligated to follow it. Let’s say there is an unspoken rule that after a few serious dates it’s time to go on a “fun” date to see how you interact in casual settings. Is it, “Dave and Buster’s, here we come!”? You need to analyze which part of that resonates with you and which does not. You may see the value of seeing your date in a different context because you know that life will not be one long DMC. But you might hate bright lights and loud, dingy places. Maybe what you consider “fun” is a picnic at the local park. In that case, going to Dave and Buster’s will do nothing to help grow the relationship because it is not a representation of who you are or what you like. In that context, you will likely not be your best self. Don’t go there.

Take your power of discernment with you on your dating journey. If something makes sense, do it. You don’t have to be that guy who davka doesn’t do something just to prove a point. Unless, of course, you are that guy who doesn’t do things just to prove a point. In which case, the girl will have to decide if she’s looking for a nonconformist.

But if you’re not intent on proving your nonconformity, then just be smart. Think of the “rules” as guidelines to work with as opposed to hard and fast rules. It doesn’t have to be water; it could be seltzer. Or it could be a couple of choices. Or you could stop somewhere and let her choose a drink. Hold the reasoning behind the rule, and let how you play it out be a reflection of you.

When it comes to some of the guidelines that are a little more consequential, think about the “rule” and why it might have been instated. For example, there is an unspoken rule that the first date does not last longer than three hours. There are many excellent reasons to not allow a first date to go beyond that time frame, and, in general, it’s a good idea to stick with it. But there is no need to panic if it runs a little longer or a little shorter.

You raise a legitimate question about the cost of being like everyone else. I hear that concern. There are many downsides to conformity, the greatest of which is the potential loss of our unique contribution to the world. We would never want you to be so afraid of “breaking the rules” that who you are gets lost in the process. On the other hand, life is filled with occasions that call for staying in step with the norms of your social group. So, yes, once again this is going to be that elusive quest for balance between adopting some guidelines that came about for good reason and staying true to yourself.

Hatzlachah in finding that sweet spot, and who knows? Maybe she’ll also like Coke, and you can quickly transition from two bottles of water to two cans of Coke!

All the best,

Sara

Sara Eisemann, LMSW, ACSW, is a licensed social worker and a dating mentor. She lectures on topics related to relationships, personal development, authenticity, and growth. She welcomes questions, comments, feedback, and interaction at matchquest@mishpacha.com.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 885)

The post Questioning the “Dating Rules” first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

I am sending this question with tears in my eyes and disbelief in my heart. My daughter is 26 years old and still not married. We’d asked her younger sister to refrain from dating until now, but in two months she will be turning 22, and we no longer feel it is appropriate to hold her back.

I don’t even know what my question is. It breaks my heart to do this, but I don’t see another choice. My older daughter has not expressed a desire either way ® she hasn’t asked my younger daughter to wait, but neither has she insisted that she begin.

How do we handle this? Any tips for mitigating the pain and easing the process?

Brokenhearted Mother

Dear Mother,

IF pages could speak, this paper would be telling the story of impossible choices. Some of the hardest moments of parenting are those when we’re asked to choose between the needs of one child over another. This is a hefty nisayon, and I bentsh you to have the siyata d’Shmaya to traverse this path b’shalom. Let me underscore the importance of daas Torah in this situation. Every family facing this dilemma needs to have the guidance of a rav who is familiar with their specific situation to guide them through this. This is too big to tread alone.

I recently had the zechus to meet with a group of older single women on the topic of “skipping” — younger siblings who marry (or even date) before their older sibling. The pain was palpable — so was the inspiration. I learned a lot, and I’m sharing it with you in hopes that we can lessen the hurt.

I discovered two significant patterns regarding the women who were “skipped”:

1) The women who were treated with respect fared significantly better than those who were not.

Hard stop.

While that seems remarkably obvious, it was actually shocking to hear how many times basic courtesy was violated. When I read your letter, I was heartened that you instinctively appreciate how painful this is for your older daughter and that you are intent on making this as palatable as possible. Two points for you! When you approach this with sensitivity you are already on your way to paving the path with peace.

There is some discussion about whether waiting for an older sibling is an actual halachah, and that is obviously beyond the purview of this column. Rav Moshe paskens that it is not, but that the older single should certainly be approached for permission before a younger sibling begins to date.

The sensitivity displayed by this response is very telling. If we can step into the shoes of the older sibling for just a moment, we can feel the sense of powerlessness they are experiencing and the potential shame. Giving them the opportunity to have some agency helps diminish those helpless feelings and allows them to shift from a place of “I have to” to a place of “I choose to.” That empowerment goes a long way to restoring the sense of worth that may have felt compromised.

One of the reflexive responses that comes up in discussing this topic is the fact that Lavan stated, “We do not do this. In our place, we don’t allow the younger to marry before the older.” This is often brought as evidence for the fact that siblings should not skip.

But since when is Lavan our rebbe for anything? I prefer to learn from our holy Imahos — Leah and Rochel. From Leah we learn about the power of ratzon, and Rochel teaches us the power of being moser nefesh for a sister. Hashem Himself acknowledged the depth of Rochel’s sacrifice when He listened only to her — not even to Moshe Rabbeinu or the Avos — at the time of the first Churban. “Min’i koleich mibechi,” Hashem said. “You can stop crying because I hear you. You sacrificed greatly, and now is the payback for all you endured.”

When a family comes with that level of appreciation, when they acknowledge to the older sister that they realize the enormity of what they are asking, perhaps she will be moved to forego her rightful place. But when the family comes with demands and says things like, “Too bad, you can’t expect her to wait forever,” they are plunging the knife in deeply. When there is an expectation that the older sister will give up her room when the younger one comes home, they are making it difficult for the older one to expand her heart on her own.

Imposing demands leads to constriction. Being respectful opens the possibility for expansion and a gracious response. Please be mindful that you are asking a lot. And then leave space for your older daughter to access her best self from a place of choice.

2) This often mirrors preexisting dynamics.

The best chance for this to play out well is in a family where a good relationship exists between the two sisters prior to dating. If the premorbid condition is one of resentment, competition, and jealousy, this experience will further exacerbate those feelings. Sometimes an older sister can feel like this request is just one more example of the younger sister surpassing her. It can feel like there is an entire history where things have gone smoothly for one and with difficulty for the other. It is hard to shake off a lifetime of bad feelings. and unrealistic to expect that to happen at such a defining time.

While it may seem ironic, this crisis can actually be a blessing in disguise. The collision of intense emotion with the potency of a major life cycle event can be the perfect storm to blow the lid off a simmering issue and expose it. A wise family (and by family, I mean you) will use this opportunity to bring healing to the family. This can be the impetus for you to look at what has been brewing for years and to address it in a way that promotes forgiveness and deep healing. It takes great wisdom, but it is a gift to the whole family for now and for future generations.

There is much potential here for growth or, chas v’shalom, for intractable pain. May Hashem grant you the wisdom to guide your family with daas Torah along this path with great sensitivity and courage to see the truth. May you be busy dancing at both of their weddings b’karov!

All the best,

Sara

Sara Eisemann, LMSW, ACSW, is a licensed social worker and a dating mentor. She lectures on topics related to relationships, personal development, authenticity, and growth. She welcomes questions, comments, feedback, and interaction at matchquest@mishpacha.com.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 880)

The post “We Have to Skip Our Oldest Daughter… but How?!” first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

When I lost my favorite blue shirt, I was mildly perturbed, but mostly undisturbed because I was quite sure it was hanging to dry in the basement. And even when I went to the basement to look for it and it wasn’t there, I was still unruffled. I figured the cleaning lady took it back upstairs in the interim (ah, denial, you’re my friend).

The fact that this happened right after misplacing my glasses was somewhat irritating. And, yes, they were the replacement pair for the pair I lost a few weeks before, if you must know. But what are you going do, I thought? That’s how glasses roll.

When I lost my second retainer (the orthodontist, in his wisdom, always makes three) shortly thereafter, I was slightly agitated because, retainer? I questioned myself — having passed adolescence by several decades, should I not be old enough to hold on to a retainer?

I spent a moment or two wondering why I was losing things. It churned a little, but I let it go.

But by the time I lost my hairbrush the next day, I realized I was losing it. How did I lose that brush when I know I used it to brush the sheitel I was setting downstairs, and now it’s neither downstairs nor upstairs? Nor under the bed nor the dresser nor the chair nor even under the blanket, for that matter.

The search began. For my items and for my sanity. Sadly, as of this writing, neither has been found. After looking and then looking again, searching in the same places and then again in different places, rifling through closets — mine and those of every other family member — and not finding it, I still didn’t give up. (Bet you weren’t expecting that!)

The post Losing It first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

I’m curious to hear your opinion on this matter. I’m a 28-year-old male who over the last seven years has dated more women than I care to count. To say I’m burnt out would be the understatement of the year. I still very much want to get married, but I could do without the whole dating thing. So here’s my question. How do you feel about doing the first date or two on Zoom? I know it’s not ideal, but the prospect of getting dressed up, fighting traffic, paying tons of money, and looking for parking is sometimes enough to get me to say no, unless the suggestion is very compelling. I feel like this would be such an efficient way to weed out the dates that would end up being one and done. What do you think?

So Done

Dear So Done,

I hear you, man. You sound exhausted from what you’ve been through. I have to imagine that seven years in, you’ve probably had some really draining experiences. Even when things go smoothly, your description of what every date entails paints a clear picture of the heavy investment and certainly helps to clarify how frustrating it is when the date goes absolutely nowhere.

You describe a more efficient system that doesn’t require such investment, but, you see, therein lies the problem. This isn’t a business transaction, this is an encounter. And the goal isn’t efficiency, it’s connection. The investment is precisely what is needed to build connection.

Another scenario that is the same but totally different is the coffee date. While a coffee date is different in that the couple is meeting in person, it shares the same quality of less investment. Why should we go to all the trouble of getting dressed up and sitting in an awkward lobby talking about the seminary or yeshivah we went to ten years ago when one cup of Joe might instantly reveal that we’re not meant to be?

It’s a solid question. I get it. I get the burnout. I get the vulnerability each date represents, even though we’re acting all nonchalant about it. I get that each time we go out we take a little piece of our soul with us. And I get that sometimes it just all feels like it’s too much.

And at the same time, this is what relationship is about. It’s about bringing your whole self into it. As Rav Dessler explains in the Kuntres Hachesed of Michtav MeEliyahu, the more we invest in something, the more we love it. Or as they say much less eloquently in the vernacular, “No pain, no gain.” The more we give of ourselves, the more we see a piece of ourselves in that person, and so we feel connected and identified.

And this is probably why you don’t want to invest any more of yourself — you’ve already given away so many pieces.

The reality of relationships is that they do require vulnerability and investment to progress. Two people on a coffee date or a Zoom date are basically wearing signs that say “I’m not all in” without ever saying a word. How does that breed connection? Vulnerability by definition requires safety, and who would be willing to risk anything when the environment is so guarded to begin with?

Obviously all of this is occurring on a subconscious level, but as we know, that type of communication is far more powerful than verbal communication.

Having said all that, I understand there are times when Zoom is a blessing. If there is no way the couple can meet logistically, and they want to have a short date just to kick-start the process, I can see certain scenarios where that would be helpful. Sometimes long-distance dating logistics are such that there’s a long time between dates, and a supplemental Zoom date is helpful to keep the flow going. And sometimes you really are too exhausted, and all you can muster is the energy for a coffee date, so that’s all you do.

I think the point is not to give an all-or-nothing answer, but to recognize the cost of not meeting in person. We need to appreciate that showing up with your full self, as hard as it is, gives the relationship its best shot. And it sets the ideal tone for what will iy”H become the foundation of a lifelong relationship.

May it come quickly!

All the best,

Sara

Sara Eisemann, LMSW, ACSW, is a licensed social worker and a dating mentor. She lectures on topics related to relationships, personal development, authenticity, and growth. She welcomes questions, comments, feedback, and interaction at matchquest@mishpacha.com.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 862)

The post “I Can’t Take Any More First Dates” first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

Iknow this might sound like a superficial question, but I am really struggling with it. I take my health very seriously. I work out every day, and I avoid meat, flour, and sugar except for the occasional treat on Shabbos. The guy I’m dating is a real bochur. He likes his Thursday night cholent (and on Friday, and Friday night, and Shabbos), preferably with a beer, and appreciates a good charcuterie board. I think the only exercise he gets is walking from the dorm to the beis medrash.

Everything else is a great fit. We have great conversations — he’s a great listener and also a great contributor. We see eye to eye hashkafically, except for this area where I put an emphasis on health, and he thinks it’s “getting caught up in the trends of the outside world” (his words).

I know we’re not supposed to focus on externalities but I’m not sure if this counts as an externality. I really like this boy, but I also feel strongly about this issue. Is this a deal-breaker?

A Healthy Eater

Dear Confused,

Ilove this question in its own right and also for what it represents. If I’m reading it right, you’re asking a question about whether someone who values a healthy lifestyle can be married to someone who places little or no value on it. But you’re also asking the larger question of how/if we can reconcile differing values and when they become a deal-breaker.

The first issue is that of judgment. Do you look down on his affinity toward cholent? Do you see yourself as somehow superior because of your lifestyle choices? Judgment and love can’t coexist in the same moment. Yes, it’s true, we can be judgmental of someone we love, but in the moment that we’re judging them we are not in a place of love. So if you have many cumulative moments of judgment in the relationship, what will that do to the emotional fiber of the marriage?

We have to look at degree of philosophical allegiance. It sounds like you are committed to your lifestyle. How committed is he to his choices? You use the word “appreciate” in reference to meat boards. That is very different from, “it isn’t Shabbos without a charcuterie board.” Is it a part of who he is, or does he just eat that way because that’s the environment he’s in? Is he open to a healthier lifestyle if someone else does the work? There are so many gradations; where does he fall on this issue?

And finally, as you mentioned, is this a personal preference or has it become a philosophy? Because if you prefer salad but are willing to make cholent with kishke because that’s what he likes, then we have something to work with. But if eating healthily has become akin to a religious belief, then you might find yourself in a state of constant inner conflict. We can all agree that in marriage, when it comes to preferences, we will need to compromise. Sometimes we’ll do it your way, sometimes we’ll do it (the right way) my way. But if it’s a deeply held belief, you might feel like you’re giving away a little part of yourself each time, and the conflict can end up eating (no pun intended) away at you.

Let’s extrapolate to the greater question of whether we can marry someone who does not share our values. For purposes of this argument, I would like to make a distinction between hashkafah and values. To build a Torahdig home it’s important that you share a hashkafah about the defining features of that home. Life is hard enough outside the home; you need the inside walls to be a united sanctuary. You want to create a home in which all parties are working toward the same goals. That has to be a given.

Within that tzurah, that structure, there is some fluidity. Each partner will come with their own set of values — be it middos or institutions — that they prioritize. Whether it be family, community, chesed, learning, mental health, financial stability, or any other host of variables, each of you will enter the marriage with a set of values. As long as you are committed to the infrastructure of the home, you can usually negotiate the particulars of the values.

In this example, you would be weighing your value of healthy living against the context of your overarching hashkafah. If the two of you agree that your infrastructure is a Torahdig home with room for all approaches within halachah, then you can certainly find a way to negotiate both your lifestyles within that framework. But if this man views your lifestyle as misaligned with the more traditional home that he wants to build, you may need to determine if this a stand-alone issue or if it’s symptomatic of misaligned hashkafah.

One caveat: It’s important that you don’t enter this relationship thinking that since you’re going to be the one in charge of cooking anyway, you’ll get him to come around. We don’t have control; we only have influence. Maybe after seeing enough of your gorgeous salads, he’ll be compelled to have one, but you can’t go in with those intentions.

There are many scenarios in which this could work with the proper respect and communication. It sounds like the two of you need a deeper conversation to get to the meat of the issue (sorry, couldn’t help it) and help you decide.

Hatzlachah!

Sara

Sara Eisemann, LMSW, ACSW, is a licensed social worker and a dating mentor. She lectures on topics related to relationships, personal development, authenticity, and growth. She welcomes questions, comments, feedback, and interaction at matchquest@mishpacha.com.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 859)

The post “Can a Health Nut Marry a Burger-and-Fries Guy?”          first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.

I’m about to go out on my sixth date, and everything is going really well. I have one concern, which I’m not even sure is a real concern. The bochur I’m dating is very careful with money, and I can’t tell if he’s frugal, stingy, or acting on principles. On our last date, for example, we sat outside in a park, and he brought along two Snapples. We each finished about half of our bottle and the rest got kind of warm as we were schmoozing. When we got up to leave, I was about to throw mine into a nearby garbage can when he said, “Oh, don’t throw that out. What a waste of good Snapple.” He said it kind of playfully, so I wasn’t sure if he was kidding, but he didn’t buy anything else to drink despite the heat. When I think about it, all our dates have been low- budget, and he parked in a deck two blocks away from the hotel to save $20 on parking.

On the one hand, I am planning to marry a learning boy and I’m prepared to cut costs to make a kollel budget work. On the other hand, I’m scared that he might actually be stingy, and if this is what he’s doing during dating, when you’re supposed to be at your best, what will he be like once he’s married? And to be honest, this is really making me question if I even know what it means to be frugal.

I like everything else about him. He’s smart, funny, serious about his Yiddishkeit, easy to get along with, an overall good guy. So I guess my question is twofold: 1) Is this considered stingy? 2) If so, is it a deal-breaker?

Confused

Dear Confused,

I have many thoughts on this question, but before I present them, I am going to make a radical suggestion.

Talk to him.

Now, I know talking about important issues is a shocking concept, but I think it might clear away many of the doubts you have here (in either direction).

Let’s cut to the heart of the issue. What is the fear underlying your question? Since I can’t ask you directly, I’m going to summarize some of the potential issues I see. When someone is careful with their spending, it can trigger a fear that you will not be taken care of, or at least not the way you would like to be taken care of, and maybe not the way in which you are accustomed to being taken care of. This can be very scary and have great emotional repercussions on a relationship.

I love that this dilemma is leading you to self-reflection. There are many things to think about here. What is your relationship to money and to spending? What does cutting costs look like to you? What is your love language? What is your safety language? Do either of them require easy flow of money? What beliefs and emotions about money do you bring from your family of origin?

Money is such a loaded issue. It can symbolize safety, freedom, security, power, and a host of other things. Understanding what it means to you will help you clarify whether this is a deal-breaker. For example, if you are okay with planning your own budget but feel controlled by having someone else impose one, that is a significant dynamic. If you feel constricted by having only exactly what you need and you need some ravchus to feel secure, that, too, is significant. Feeling stifled on a regular basis can be very detrimental to your well-being and your capacity to perform well as a wife and mother.  So this first fear needs to be named.

The second fear is that the bochur you’re dating might be rigid. There is a certain amount of flow and balance that are the hallmarks of a healthy person. When we witness inflexibility in a person it can be a real red flag. But based on some of your descriptors of this young man, this does not seem to be a problem. You use the words “easy to get along with.” That’s significant, and it indicates that some of his behaviors are actually open to interpretation. The fact that he parked two blocks away to save $20 can be seen as “cheap,” or it can be viewed as flexible, a willingness to think out-of-the-box and problem-solve creatively. The fact that he did not consider your comfort/needs and did not buy something cold is concerning but could also be cluelessness.

As in all areas of concern, what we’re looking for is a pattern. Is he consistently tight? Is he stingy in other areas, such as connection? In other words, is he farginning with his feedback? Does he laugh easily? Have nice things to say about people? Is your opinion important to him?

Check in with yourself physically. When you are around him do you feel open and relaxed? Tight and constricted? What do you think would happen if you mentioned that you were hot and thirsty? Do you feel safe to ask for a drink?

In a nutshell, what you have seen is potentially concerning. Now we need clarification. We’re making a lot of assumptions, many of which can be clarified with some good conversation. And by good conversation, I mean easy, nonjudgmental sharing about personal feelings and beliefs related to money. Be careful not to interrogate or to put him on the defensive. It might be fun to explore these issues through one of the dating games.

Bottom line: Attitudes about money can have a real daily impact on the quality of a marriage. It behooves you to understand what his behavior represents, to see if there is a pattern of rigidity, and to trust how you feel inside when this issue comes out.

Hatzlachah, and may Hashem show you what you need to see.

All the best,

Sara

Sara Eisemann, LMSW, ACSW, is a licensed social worker and a dating mentor. She lectures on topics related to relationships, personal development, authenticity, and growth. She welcomes questions, comments, feedback, and interaction at matchquest@mishpacha.com.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 853)

The post “Is He Frugal or Stingy?” first appeared on Mishpacha Magazine.