All Are Welcome

This article by Channah Cohen is on point. 

When I was single, I didn't fit. 

There was no place for me. I was a third wheel. My parents were invited out a lot for Shabbos meals, and we hosted in return, but my parents' contemporaries were in their 60s. I had a great time socializing with them—I've always gotten along better with the older cohort—but I wasn't supposed to be there, right? I was supposed to be in my newly-married apartment or starter house with two kids. 

We do say that in Judaism, the center is the home. A mommy, a totty, and children. That is also how we see others, as one half of a couple.

We are not quite sure what to do with the lone individual, who has no spouse, no children, who may or may not be tagging along with her mother or father. They are not in the same place as tuition, carpools, and frozen chicken nuggets. 

In my singlehood my accomplishments didn't matter, all that mattered was that I was single. Full stop. Nothing to see here. 

Mind you, once you do join the realm of nighttime feedings, it's not like anyone hands you a trophy. A mob of mothers don't rush you when you go to the park. You are just another someone, but a someone that can be categorized, as opposed to an indeterminate hmmm. 

But is our world any different than the world at large? Not really. Secular books and movies all have a similar theme, how being single is a shameful aberration, how a wedding invitation can strike such fear in singles' hearts that they pay an actor or escort to be their plus one. 

Society, in general, likes paired couples. They like people neatly matched up. They like rugrats running around and destroying store displays. (No, wait, they don't, then everyone tells you what a bad parent you are.)

So when the single woman in the article says she'll leave the community because she doesn't have a home, does she believe a home awaits her on the other side? What is this home? Is it that erroneous assumption that since the dating pool in the secular world is larger, she'll be able to score a man—and the accompanying home—with ease? Han has the most stunning co-worker who is single, and she's trying very very hard to find a man. It's not like the gentile world boasts a better rate for marriage and happiness than ours does. 

But our community has to do better. Yet when people say "things have to change"—well, easier said than done. Some behaviors are so ingrained that it's hard to undo them. To my horror, I found myself glancing at the stomach of a woman who had been married for a bit. I could have kicked myself for that automatic eye flick. 

I remember the time I was in a different area for yuntif, and attended shul. I was politely ignored by the other shul goers, no matter how I smiled and tried. But the girl ahead of me, an obvious BT in training (her clothing was way to casual for yuntif and she wasn't familiar with a siddur) was mobbed following davening, meal invitations being warmly offered from all sides. 

How come we can we warm and welcoming to BTs, but the FFB singles get short shrift? 

So we can be welcoming. We just have to widen our scope a little.