She's Out There

A few weeks ago, a regular contributor to a Jewish magazine wrote of an episode which is a common experience for the singles. 

She begins by saying she is a shtikel shadchan, meaning she tries to set up people but has not yet made a shidduch (*cough*). She continues that there is this lovely older fellow her husband learns with, and every woman she has suggested he has politely declined. He happens to be particularly brilliant, and he would like his life partner to share his intellect so they can conversate. 

"Pish tosh!" says she. The usual arguments followed: You aren't marrying a chavrusa. Brains doesn't mean a good mother. If anything, it will make her a neglectful one, since her head will be on loftier matters and she'll misplace the baby. Picky picky picky. 

He remains firm in his resolve. She pities him for his stubbornness, which is obviously preventing a wedded state.

One of the most common questions put to singles is, "What are you looking for?" The single replies, perhaps listing two, three, at most four attributes that are of primary importance, and another one or two that would be perks but not dealbreakers. 

The questioner then poo-poos the responses, and proceeds to sell the inappropriate shidduch. The single wearily wonders, if the answer was to be ignored, why the question was asked. 

This fellow had ONE criteria. ONE. He stated what he would like—nay, needs—in a relationship. Not a laundry list of qualities that is impossible to find in one individual, but ONE attribute. And it's no good. 

Service announcement: We are not all the same. What is important to me is not important to you, and vice versa. But the same way I can tolerate another's love of peanut butter and coconut (ick), I can accept that relationships are not one-size-fits-all. 

I shall cheer on this chap. Don't stop believin'. She's out there.