Marriage

identities they shaped as singles play a crucial role in their new identity as a married couple. The rewards, challenges, frustrations and exhilaration of married life lies in this meeting between singles. We spoke to married couples, asking them to reflect on their experience now, how it connects to their life as a single and what surprised them about moving from married to single. Yisroel S. met his wife Baila soon after he came back from learning in Eretz Yisroel. She was the first

girl he dated, and they got engaged and married relatively quickly. Although Yisroel used to joke with his friends in high school that he was ready to get married in ninth grade, in actuality he was taken by surprise at how different married life was from his single life. “My life changed in every way after I got married. Though there could be many important people and relationships in your life before marriage, the relationship of a marriage is a whole new experience, being that you now share a life. As I got further into married life, the biggest challenge was realizing that almost every decision as well as everything I did is not just about me anymore. Alongside that challenge came something that was incredibly valuable to me, that I now have a partner to go through everything with, having someone to always support and be supported by. That kind of connection is incredibly rewarding. What surprised me most about marriage was how much work It took. You hear a lot about how much work marriage is but it’s that much more and rightfully so. It should be important enough to you to put in the work. The most important things singles need learn to prepare themselves for marriage is how to be considerate.” Yisroel’s experience stands in contrast with that of Elimelech R. and his wife Chana. Unlike Yisroel, Elimelech spent many years in the shidduch process. His experiences during those years changed him and formed the type of husband he became. Specifically, he contrasted life in yeshiva versus life as a married man. “I went to an elite yeshiva in Eretz Yisroel and returned to BMG in Lakewood. In truth, at that time I was not thinking realistically about what marriage would be like. Instead, I was more caught up in the rat race mentality of getting a ‘good shidduch’. I wanted to be the first from my group to get married, to marry a big name on the market, to get a rich father-in-law who would support me. It was never about what the marriage would be like, it was more defined by an immature bochurish mindset. But the longer a person stays in shidduchim, the more their vision of marriage changes. When my fantasy failed to come to fruition, my mindset started to change. It became more about what I actually wanted in a partner; what my vision was of a person I could share a life with. Once I got married the biggest change was that my life was now about accountability. In the past, I had never worried too much about doing my own thing, even if it wasn’t always appreciated by my parents, siblings or the schools I went to. I quickly realized that disappointing my wife was something else entirely, something I couldn’t countenance in myself. This in turn led to me being more accountable in general. For me that was also the biggest challenge, to learn that my decisions have a big impact on another person. That’s also the best part: realizing that the reason your actions have such a strong effect on your wife is davka because she cares about you. My advice to singles would be to consider that marriage is not always going to be awesome. Parts of it will be, but you must know going in that a good marriage will not be handed to you on a silver platter. You will have to work on it to make it good, not because either of you are bad people, just because marriage, by its very nature takes work. People shouldn’t rush lighthearted into the wedding. Marriage can be incredible, but only if you can meet the challenge of being willing to give away a lot of what you thought makes your life fun and carefree.”

But the longer a person stays in shidduchim, the more their vision of marriage changes.”

Hadassah V. was 29 when she got married to her husband Chaim.

Throughout her years in shidduchim, she often heard insensitive comments from well-meaning people, because she had a very prestigious job as a manager at an upscale architectural firm. “When I was single, people would tell me that my job was intimidating guys, or that I was portraying an image that a family was secondary to my career. This was always very hurtful because as seriously as I took my job, I never felt that it diminished my desire to have a family. Loneliness and that lack of a husband’s support in my life was the most profoundly painful aspect of my experience being single, and to be told that I didn’t actually care about those things was like a slap in the face. Being successful at work is not a replacement for what a family can provide. I rely on my husband for so much, and our relationship, and the support he gives me, is something I could never get from my job, no matter how much success I have.”

The work of creating an identity as a couple often involves bridging a very large gap. For Leah Y. and her husband Gavriel, the gap in question was 8 years. “I was 19, he was 27. We were introduced at a wedding by my aunt and we hit it off immediately. It wasn’t a typical formal shidduch, with all the research that you usually do going in. I didn’t find out about his age until our third date, and it didn’t bother either of us because our chemistry was so good. I remember that on the sixth date, we spent a long time talking about how weird it was for him that I didn’t remember 9/11, but other than that conversation, I don’t remember that it was ever something that affected how we developed our relationship. People mentioned it constantly but we both would dismiss all concerns because to us it really was a non-factor. Once we got married though, certain things began to crop up. We lived in Israel for the first few years of our marriage. For me, it was exciting. I had been in seminary the year before, and many of my friends were in Israel for the year. I wanted to make big meals with all of them, to schmooze about everything that was going on in seminary, but Gavriel did not enjoy the meals. It had been five years since he had been in the Mir, and he really didn’t know too many people there. He wanted his

“Loneliness and that lack of a husband’s support in my life was the most profoundly painful aspect of my experience being single”

Shabbosim to be quiet. When we went on vacation, I wanted to rent jet skis and he wanted to go to a museum. Slowly but surely, we realized that although the core of our connection was strong, there were many small differences we had that were rooted in the age gap. Once we became aware of that, we were able to identify when it was the subtext of a disagreement we were having and it really helped. We were able to laugh about it. I started to appreciate situations where his maturity and life experience could guide us, and he started to recognize that I could bring a more youthful feeling to the house.” Age is not the only barrier couples have to overcome. Often there are differences of culture, family background and life experience that can also play a major role in how the couple’s relationship develops. Chanoch T. grew up in Berkeley, California, the cradle of American radical liberalism, without any religious education or experiences. When he was in his early 20’s, he took a Birthright trip to Israel and ended up in a class at Aish HaTorah, and his journey to rediscover his roots began. “When I first got to the yeshiva, the classes that initially grabbed me were the ones that focused on marriage and relationships. Everything I was learning was so fundamentally opposite to the ideas I had absorbed from the world I lived in before. Marriage was actually an opportunity to build something incredible, not an outmoded societal relic that stifled individuality and love. It totally transformed my picture of what a marriage could be. As I grew in my Torah study and Jewish observance, I started thinking about my own family. I wanted to build a home that embodied all the principles I had learned about. As a newcomer to observance though, I worried about finding a partner whom I could fit with. Marrying someone who had grown up in the Orthodox world would help me integrate, but I wasn’t sure if they could relate to my background and understand where I come from. When I started dating after a few years in yeshiva, I gravitated towards women who had been on a similar journey to mine, but I couldn’t seem to make a connection with any of them.”

He was at a Shabbos Seuda in Shaarei Chesed when he met his wife Faigy, someone whose background could not have been more different from his. “I come from a Heimish family in Monsey,” Faigy tells me. “My father wears a shtreimel, my brothers wear up hats and gartels. I was a little bit more on the modern side of my family, but I always had tremendous respect for our Chassidish heritage. Although I went to college and got a degree as a social worker, I was looking for a husband whose background was similar to mine. After many years of dating, I was frustrated and alone. I spent Chanukah in Israel by a friend, and I met Chanoch at her Shabbos table. Right away, his sincerity and enthusiasm for Yiddishkeit made a big impression on me. While it was clear that he came from a totally different world, his hashkafa and personality were very appealing, and I made the decision to leave my comfort zone in hopes of finding something special.” After a few dates, Faigy decided to extend her ticket, and a month later, she flew back to the U.S. with Chanoch so he could meet her family. Despite some initial hesitation and awkwardness, Faigy’s family has embraced Chanoch fully. “Yes, there are still Chassidish nuances that go over my head,” confesses Chanoch. “I still think that Kugel is something totally different than Keegel, and some of the Shabbos zemiros are very difficult for me to join in on. But ultimately, what initially connected us was a passionate love for Yiddishkeit, and that is really the core of what Chassidus is about. Despite any cultural differences we had, that spiritual warmth is the foundation that we built our marriage on.”

“But ultimately, what initially connected us was a passionate love for Yiddishkeit”