DATING FORUM
Question
I was raised in a Chassidishe-style home. My father does not wear a shtreimel on Shabbos, but he wears an upbent hat, davens with a gartel, and holds all Chassidishe minhagim. and my mother wears palm (thick) stockings with seams. I went to a Chassidishe school and I was raised with the expectations that came with the environment.
The reason I am writing to you is because now that I’m old enough to get married, I have come to realize that I am very different from my family, and I don’t want a boy like from where I come from. I don’t want a Chassidishe boy.
I am more modern. I go to movies, I read books, and I have interests that are not like the community in which I was raised. I don’t want to marry someone who is exactly like the boys from the world I grew up in. The problem is that I know my parents will never approve of a modern boy for me.
I have gone out with a few boys without my parents knowing. Fortunately, I didn’t like any of them enough for it to become an issue. But I keep thinking about what will happen if I meet someone I like and my parents don’t approve? I don’t know what to do about all this.
Response
Your question is much bigger than whether you should date a “modern” boy. You’re really asking about how to build a life that is authentically yours when the people who raised you have a different vision for your future. That’s a difficult question, and you are certainly not the first young lady to face this dilemma. There are circumstances where parents are respectful of their child’s choice to be modern and are accepting of a modern type of shidduch. But it sounds like you know that may likely not happen in your situation.
There is something important that I want you to understand before you get too far into the shidduchprocess. Being different from your parents does not necessarily mean that you’re rejecting your parents, their values, or how they raised you. You can appreciate where you came from and still discover that you don’t want to replicate every aspect of it in your own marriage.
Your parents raised you according to what they believe is right. They may have sacrificed enormously to give you that upbringing. From their perspective, the kind of boy they want you to marry may represent stability, Torah values, religious continuity, family compatibility, and a certain kind of Jewish home. That doesn’t mean they automatically know what will make you happy. And that distinction is crucial.
There’s one thing I would caution you about. Don’t make “modern” your goal, and don’t make the mistake of defining your future husband primarily by what he is not. “I don’t want a Chassidishe boy,” is not a description of the husband you want. You need to be able to answer the much harder question. “What do I truly want?”
Do you want someone who’s open-minded, meaning, whose family is similar to yours yet has a hashkafah that’s more modern? Someone who is Yeshivish but not Chassidish? Someone who is Modern Orthodox, but accepting of your background? Someone who is frum but works full-time? Someone who is comfortable with secular education and entertainment? Someone who will encourage you to continue developing professionally? Someone who wants a home that is more integrated into the general world? Or perhaps you don’t yet know. And that’s okay. But you need to distinguish between personal identity and rebellion.
Sometimes someone who grows up in a restrictive environment becomes attracted to the first person who represents freedom. That can be incredibly powerful. But freedom and compatibility are not the same thing. A man may seem exciting to you because he does everything your parents disapprove of, but that does not necessarily make him a good husband. Conversely, a man may come from a background your parents dislike and nevertheless be an exceptionally good, serious, respectful, frum person who is genuinely compatible with you. Judge the person—not the category.
Before you become seriously involved with anyone, think about the kind of home you want to create. What type of Shabbos atmosphere would you want to recreate in your home? What type of schools would your children be attending? How frum are you expecting your children to be? What are your standards of tznius? What role should Torah play in your husband’s life? What kind of shul would you want to attend? It goes even further than that. Will your husband work? Will you work? What kind of entertainment will be acceptable in your home? How involved will extended family be? Will you be comfortable if your husband’s family is significantly more modern than yours? These questions matter much more than whether someone calls himself “Chassidic,” “Modern Orthodox,” “Yeshivish,” or something else. Labels can feel useful in the beginning, but they can also conceal enormous differences between individuals.
Thus far, you have not liked anyone you dated, but what if you meet someone you really like? This is where I think you should proceed carefully. If you meet someone and the relationship becomes serious, don’t immediately make the issue: “My parents won’t approve of you.” Instead, first determine whether the relationship has substance. Attraction is wonderful, but marriage requires much more. Marriage requires good middos, emotional maturity, respect for you, outsiders, and your parents. It also requires being able to disagree without attacking or making fun of someone. That includes agreeing on how to raise children, frumkeit in the household, finances, where you will live, etc. Perhaps the most important question of all is, will you become a better version of yourself through this relationship? Or are you simply experiencing the excitement of doing something your parents wouldn’t approve of? That last question can tell you a lot.
I would not recommend simply springing a serious boyfriend on your parents and saying, “This is who I’m marrying.” Even if you are legally an adult, that approach can turn a potentially manageable disagreement into a family war. Your parents should have an opportunity to express their concerns. But there is an important distinction between listening to your parents and surrendering your judgment to them. If your mother says, “I don’t like his family,” ask her why. If your father says, “He’s not from our community,” ask what specifically concerns him. If they identify a genuine character issue, investigate it. If they tell you something about his religious observance that you didn’t know, don’t dismiss it simply because it conflicts with what you want to hear. But if their entire objection is essentially, “He’s not our type,” then you have to decide how much weight that should carry. Parents sometimes confuse familiarity with compatibility. They may think that someone who looks like them, dresses like them, and comes from a family like theirs will automatically be a better husband for their daughter. It doesn’t always work that way.
I also understand why you’ve been dating secretly. You didn’t want to fight with your parents over boys you weren’t interested in marrying. That makes sense. But once you meet someone who could potentially become your husband, secrecy becomes much more complicated. A secret relationship can create enormous pressure. You can begin feeling that you have to choose between your parents and the person you’re dating—even before you know if the relationship is viable. That isn’t healthy. If you meet someone you genuinely like, I strongly recommend involving a mature third party before things become too serious. It could be a relative, rebbetzin, mentor, therapist, rav, shadchan, or another person both you and your parents trust. Ideally, this person should understand both worlds. You don’t need someone whose automatic answer is, “Your parents are wrong.” And you don’t need someone whose automatic answer is, “Your parents know best.” You need someone who can say: “Let’s understand what this young lady wants, what the parents are concerned about, and whether this particular young man is actually compatible with her.”
There’s something else you need to bear in mind, and that is the halachic and family dimension aspect. If you truly intend to remain frum, I would not treat this solely as a lifestyle question. There are genuine halachicand hashkafic issues that need to be discussed before marriage. Different families may have different standards concerning Shabbos, kashrus, tznius, television and movies, internet use, schooling, Taharas Hamishpacha, shul affiliation, children’s education, and many other areas. None of these questions should be postponed until after the engagement. A couple can be crazy about each other and still discover that they have fundamentally different expectations about how their children should be raised. That is why “He’s modern and I’m modern” is not enough.
You need to know what his version of modern means. And he needs to understand what your upbringing means. You may be more modern than your family, but you’re also carrying a religious foundation that was formed over many years. Don’t assume that because you want something different from your parents that you have nothing in common with them. You may ultimately discover that you want a beautiful combination of things from both worlds.
There is another possibility that young people sometimes underestimate, and something I have personally witnessed. Your parents may initially say no—and later change their minds. Parents can have very strong reactions when they first hear that their child wants to marry someone outside their community standards. Their first reaction may be fear. They may worry about what neighbors and relatives will say. They may worry about shidduchim for younger siblings. They may worry about grandchildren. They may worry that you are abandoning everything they taught you. That doesn’t necessarily mean they will feel the same way six months later. Sometimes parents need time to see that their child is not throwing away her values. She is simply making mature decisions about her life. If you introduce them to a genuinely good young man who treats you with respect, is serious about Yiddishkeit, has good middos, and shares your vision for marriage, the conversation may be very different from the one they imagined.
Here’s the hardest part. You need to be emotionally prepared for the possibility that your parents may never completely approve. That doesn’t mean you should disregard them. It means you need to understand that approval and permission are not always the same thing. If you are an adult, marriage ultimately becomes your responsibility. You cannot outsource the decision to your parents and then blame them if you are unhappy. Nor should you choose a husband simply to avoid disappointing them. Your parents will not be the ones living with your husband every day. They won’t be sitting across the breakfast table from him. They won’t be raising children with him. They won’t be experiencing your marriage. You will. That doesn’t make your parents irrelevant. Their wisdom and experience can be extremely valuable. But it does mean that the final decision has to be based on a realistic understanding of the person you are marrying and the life you are choosing.
Finally, I would encourage you not to make this a rebellion. You can say to your parents that you appreciate everything they gave you, but as you’ve gotten older, you discovered your own vision for the home you want to build. Tell them that you love them, want their guidance, and for them to be involved in your life. Stress that you also need them to understand that the person you marry has to be compatible with who you are. The message they will hopefully glean is that you are not rejecting them.
The goal should not be to find a husband who will prove your parents wrong. The goal should be to find the right husband for you, someone with whom you can build a Bayis Ne’eman B’Yisrael that is both spiritually meaningful and genuinely compatible with the young lady you have become. And if that person comes from a different background than your parents envisioned, that alone does not determine whether he is right or wrong for you. At the end of the day, a successful marriage is not between two labels or two families; it’s between two people. Your challenge now is to know yourself well enough to choose wisely, and to have the courage to do that while still treating your parents with the respect they deserve.
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].
