A Material Dating World

By: Malkie Gordon Hirsch Magence

I love drawing parallels between the observant and non-observant dating worlds because, at the end of the day, the dating game (the not-so-fun one) is universally complex, frustrating, and oddly familiar on both sides.

I was thinking about this on my flight home from Israel last week, mindlessly scrolling through the airline’s endless movie options, when I stumbled on a film full of unfamiliar actors—always a good enough reason to give it a shot.

The opening scene featured a beautiful woman getting ready for her day. As she passed a professional-looking man in a hallway, she stopped him, introduced herself as a matchmaker, and handed him her card.

As the movie unfolded, we learned more about her life—a happily single matchmaker (irony noted) who had a knack for pairing people together. To her, love was a math equation—one she could always solve.

She toggled between therapist and cheerleader for her female clients, who often lamented their doomed fate of never finding “Mr. Right.” They’d reject her suggestions even as they dreaded a future alone. On the other side, she’d pitch her prospects to the men, an equally uphill battle, until a reluctant “okay” was secured.

Then, inevitably, the cycle repeated. After a promising first date, the woman would call the matchmaker, glowing with hope, only to hear that he didn’t feel the same way.

It’s a tale as old as time—or at least as old as when dating became a full-fledged production.

As the story continued, we watched the matchmaker herself torn between two men: a former boyfriend who lacked ambition but shared her heart, and a new love interest who embodied everything her polished city persona desired—success, sophistication, and status. One relationship was built on feelings, the other on bullet points.

Predictably, she chose love over optics. Cue the credits, cue the happily-ever-after, cue the Hollywood illusion.

I appreciated the takeaway—that she chose happiness and hard work over lifestyle and comfort—but I couldn’t help thinking how rare that choice really is today, both in the Jewish and secular dating worlds.

Because, if we’re honest, most people want it all. And the longer we stay single, the longer that wish list seems to grow.

We forget that behind the résumés and bios are actual people—flawed, human, and impossible to summarize in bullet points. Matchmakers spend endless hours trying to get their clients to invest even one coffee date’s worth of energy. But when someone’s been in the game for decades, even that can feel emotionally exhausting.

Honestly? It’s all a bit of a mess.

Dating used to be simpler. Before résumés and profile pictures and the endless “criteria” checklists, people were more accessible. You didn’t have to go through an entire committee to see if a match was “appropriate.”

I recently tried setting up a couple. After the boy’s mother asked if the girl preferred using a mediator to arrange date details, I casually replied that I was sure she’d be fine speaking directly with him. A quick follow-up with her mom proved me wrong:

“Malkie, she’d NEVER speak to him before the date.”

That’s when it hit me—dating has become so formalized, so over-orchestrated, that even basic communication is considered taboo.

At this rate, I half-expect parents to start showing up on the dates themselves.

Here’s the thing:

Dating is scary.

Putting yourself out there is uncomfortable.

Vulnerability is stressful.

Rejection does sting.

And starting over again and again is exhausting.

But that’s also life. It’s part of being human—learning resilience, facing fear, and still daring to hope.

As parents, there are some things we simply can’t protect our children from. Building a relationship is one of them. And no amount of hovering, guiding, or coordinating can teach what only experience can.

The same goes for matchmakers. Coddling doesn’t help. And neither does the image-driven, paper-perfect version of dating that’s taken over our communities.

For a people who pride themselves on ancient tradition, we’ve managed to make something as timeless as finding love feel cold and transactional. We rely on résumés, headshots, and school lists as if they could capture the essence of a person.

Maybe it’s time we returned to something simpler—where connection mattered more than credentials, and curiosity mattered more than comfort zones.

Because while the world races ahead in every direction, the art of human connection should never be left behind. 

Malkie Gordon Hirsch Magence is a native of the Five Towns community, a mom of five, a writer, and a social media influencer.