Yea-Sayer

I went on my first date at 19. Looking back, I sweat in gratitude that I did not have to make such a major decision then, naive and trusting as I was. 

I was superficial enough to believe that what matters between two people are their likes and dislikes on a petty level. I don't like sushi, I love cabbage, I don't get football, I like reading. 

When on a date way back when, I would have felt an odd need to agree over trivialities, or frantically defend my preferences. "It's not like I hate sushi, I think sushi is very decent, but we just don't see eye to eye, I'm not into raw fish and unseasoned rice and bland seaweed, not that I have anything against raw fish and unseasoned rice and bland seaweed—why am I sweating so much? Look, you can leave the sushi with me, I won't hurt it, I promise!"

Now on a date I blithely scorn the sushi and the football. Because if I am going to marry someone, it's not going to be about dinner or sports.

A strong sense of self is necessary to function in life, in a time when self-awareness is cast aside for trend-following. I have read books by Jewish publishers that claim that when it comes to marriage, the younger, the better, so that qualities have time to meld and grow together. That may work for some, but personal acknowledgement of one's own needs and wants can work to their advantage as well. 

Noelle Howey wrote a Modern Love tale, how she was dating a man who had no opinions about anything, despite his high IQ. He would wait for her viewpoint, then heartily concur. It soon became a deal breaker: She needed a man with opinions, and willing to stand by them. 

His transformation was so swift that she was taken aback when he would disagree. 

I wasn’t sure what to think. How could a person change so dramatically in such a short time? As much as I loved this bolder version of Chris, I worried I had inadvertently played Pygmalion with him. Everyone knows you can’t change your partner, and shouldn’t even try; that’s an axiom for a reason.

And I knew from experience that you can’t permanently contort yourself to please someone else . . . If I had somehow forced Chris into becoming the person I’d wanted to be with — as opposed to the person he truly was — we wouldn’t last.

She eventually discovered that his reasons for keeping acquiescent was due to his parents' loud and frequent arguments. Since they wouldn't even bother to hear him, he never felt a need to say anything. 

“It’s different with you,” he said. “I can be myself.”

Jessica Biel was featured in August's InStyle. The interview questions were based on reader submissions. 

Do you think when you're with someone for a long time you adopt some of their traits and vice versa? If so, what have you and Justin picked up from each other? — Jamie Jovel, Rohnert Park, CA.

In my earlier experiences with relationships, I was really vulnerable to somebody else's personality, hobbies, and way of life. But as I've gotten older, I've become proud of the traits that make me who I am. Maintaining my individuality is really important to me because otherwise I can easily slip into someone else's life. So I'm glad I'm getting better at it. It's a process, but it's getting simpler.  

There are so many books and films about uptight soccer moms who suddenly realize how they "lost themselves," then "need" to abandon their families to "rediscover who they are." Being a wife and a mother and a daughter and a sister is not an identity; all of us play many roles, yet remain something else entirely. There is no need to lose oneself in the process. It is not fair, not only to oneself, but to one's family. 

So no misrepresentation when on a date.  

"Goodness, I don't understand football at all. I abhor such violence for the sake of entertainment. No sushi for me, thank you, but could you pass the coleslaw?"