DATING FORUM

Question

Dear Mrs. Sebrow,

I read your column religiously. I’m twenty-seven years old and I’ve struggled with my weight for most of my life, so I know how it feels when you worry that someone will judge you based on something visible, external, and deeply personal. I’ve been dating a guy for about six weeks. He’s funny, thoughtful, and we’ve had a really nice time together. I felt like things were starting to become more serious. Last week, we were getting out of an Uber after dinner. He got out first, but as he turned back toward me, he lost his balance. The car door started to swing shut and caught the lower part of his leg at an awkward angle. He tried to steady himself, but the movement seemed to twist the leg unnaturally. A second later, part of his leg detached and fell to the ground.

For a moment, I didn’t understand what had happened. I thought he had been seriously injured. I panicked and asked if he was okay. Mortified, he picked up the leg, adjusted himself, and quietly explained that he wears a prosthetic leg. I was shocked, not because he has a prosthetic leg, but because we had been dating for six weeks and he had never told me. When I asked him why he kept it from me, he said that most girls stop going out with him once they find out, so he planned to tell me deeper into the relationship, after I had gotten to know him and would hopefully be okay with it.

I feel terrible that he’s clearly been hurt before, and I don’t want to make him feel rejected over something like this. At the same time, because of my own experience with weight, I also know how painful it can be to feel like someone is reducing you to one physical issue. That is why I’m confused by my own reaction. Part of me understands why he waited, but another part of me feels uncomfortable that he kept something so personal from me, assuming I would accept being kept in the dark.

Is this a trust issue or am I being insensitive? How do I talk to him about this without making him feel judged? Please advise.

Response

Thank you for your readership, and for having the faith in me to respond to you with advice about this unique dilemma. What happened here would rattle almost anyone—not because of the prosthetic leg itself, but because of the way you found out, and what that means for the foundation you are building together. Your reaction isn’t insensitive. You know what it’s like to feel judged for something visible and deeply personal. So, no matter how your reaction may have initially been interpreted by him, the bottom line is that you are human. You were startled, concerned about his safety, and suddenly faced with the realization that something significant was kept from you for six weeks. That’s a lot to process in one moment.

Let’s start with the moment itself. You weren’t gradually told something personal in a calm, intentional conversation. You witnessed something sudden and frightening, totally unexpected. There was a split second when you thought he might be seriously injured. That kind of shock doesn’t leave much room for ordinary emotional processing. I think part of what you’re feeling may not even be about the prosthetic leg. It may simply be the aftereffect of a startling experience. When something happens so abruptly, especially in public and under stress, it can amplify your emotional response. That alone deserves to be acknowledged and not dismissed. The complicated aspect of this is that he didn’t tell you about it.

It would be easy to frame this as a breach of trust—but that might not be the most accurate lens to look at it. From his perspective, withholding this information was not about deceiving you, but about protecting himself. In fact, he told you that he’s been rejected before, and he wanted you to get to know him first. That’s not an unusual instinct. Many people who carry something stigmatized, whether it’s a physical difference, a medical condition, or even something less obvious oftentimes develop a kind of emotional strategy. The thought process, and truthfully, what rabbanim sometimes suggest, is to delay disclosure about a situation in the hope that once someone sees their personality, values, and middos, that whatever they are concealing will not define them.

I am gathering from your letter that you are not upset that he has a prosthetic leg. You feel unsettled that you learned about it in an accidental rather than intentional way. That’s a huge and important distinction. It goes without saying that there is an expectation when dating that people will be forthcoming about their lives, especially the aspects that affect daily life.

A prosthetic limb is not a small detail; it’s part of his physical existence, his history, and likely his identity at this point. So, when this information came to light, it created a real sense of imbalance.

Now, it’s important to separate two things that are likely getting jumbled in your mind: his leg and his choice not to tell you. His reason for waiting makes perfect sense from an emotional perspective. He’s likely been rejected in painful ways, and he tried to protect himself by giving you time to see who he is beyond that one fact. That comes from vulnerability, not manipulation or deliberate deception. At the same time, your discomfort also makes sense. A prosthetic leg isn’t a minor detail. It’s part of his daily reality, and discovering it accidentally can feel jarring, even disorienting. When an important issue is discovered further along in the dating process, it’s natural to wonder what else they are not disclosing. That’s not a judgment of him. It’s a natural response to that lapse in disclosure.

Your own experience with your weight gives you empathy, but it may also be complicating your reaction. You know what it feels like to be judged for something visible and deeply personal. You understand the sting of being reduced to that one aspect of yourself. And because of that, you’re trying hard not to be “that” person who causes pain to another through judgement, almost to the point that you’re dismissing your own legitimate feelings about trust and openness. Please understand that your empathy is a strength, but it can also become a source of internal pressure. You’re allowed to care about his feelings and still acknowledge your own.

Six weeks is a gray area. It’s not a first date, but it’s also not deeply established. Reasonable people could disagree about when something like this should be shared. So rather than framing this as right vs. wrong, it’s more helpful to see it as a difference in expectations and transparency.

You need to have a conversation about it. The fact is that finding out the way you did was completely unfair and insensitive to your feelings. I imagine that similar mishaps must have happened to him before, and he should have expected that it could possibly happen anytime on a date. As tragic as it is for him to endure his disability, that does not give him the right to subject a dating partner to what you were forced to witness without warning. When you talk to him, the tone you use matters more than the exact words. Do not come across as confronting him. Rather, you’re trying to understand and be understood. Tell him that you want to talk about what happened the other night on the date. At that point, you can preface it by saying how much you’ve enjoyed the last six weeks with him, and that you’re not upset about his prosthetic—but you were surprised and felt unsettled finding out the way you did. You might want to add that you understand why he waited to tell you, especially if he has been hurt before. But at the same time, you would have hoped that he was able to be open with you as you were getting to know each other and building an emotional connection.

His response will tell you a lot. If he can hear you without shutting down or getting defensive, that’s a very good sign. If he struggles, it doesn’t make him a bad person, it may just mean that he’s still carrying a lot of fear from past experiences. The bigger question for you isn’t if he was wrong. It’s: Do I feel comfortable building a life with someone who handled it this way, and what does it say about his willingness to communicate about other serious issues that will come our way in the future?

Please understand that no matter how things turn out, you did nothing wrong here. Moreover, you are allowed to have both compassion and standards; they are not mutually exclusive. This doesn’t have to be the thing that ends the relationship, but it is a moment that can shape how the relationship grows from here. 

Baila Sebrow is president of Neshoma Advocates, communications and recruitment liaison for Sovri-Beth Israel, executive director of Teach Our Children, and a shadchanis and shidduch consultant. Baila also produces and hosts The Definitive Rap podcast for 5townscentral.com, vinnews.com, Israel News Talk Radio, and WNEW FM 102.7 FM HD3, listenline & talklinenetwork.com. She can be reached at [email protected].