In Her Shoes

While walking on shabbos, I passed two girls. The fellow I was with stopped and wished one of them mazel tov. When instead of responding she looked at him strangely, he realized something was amiss and asked,
“Didn’t you just have a baby?”
“No.” She replied.
“Really?”
“About sixteen months ago.”
“Well then why did I think you just had a child?” He inquired.
“Maybe ‘cuz I am always fat,” she answered.

I forgot where I heard it but I remember a Rav talking about feeling the words one says rather than saying them by rote. When you say “Have a Nice Day” to someone, really mean that you hope they have a nice day. I have tried instilling intentions in my words and I think it is a good exercise in caring. Wishing a bus driver or cashier well and really meaning it is a big step in the direction of caring for others. I have spent much of my life in a narcissistic, self-absorbed bubble. Other people only mattered to me as much as they could help further my interests. It’s horrible, I know. But somehow I became cognizant of this and embarked on the long road of learning to care.

When the girl said, “Maybe ‘cuz I am always fat”, it did something to me. This girl was in pain. People don’t say things like that in front of total strangers unless their self esteem has really tanked. (I found out later that she used to be quite attractive before she got pregnant and gained weight.) And it bothered me. I’ve felt pain like that before and it hurts. I wanted to do something. So I prayed. Right there on the spot. I prayed that this girl should lose weight and that she should gain back her self esteem. I prayed that she should be happy. It was a weird experience for me. I have never done that for a total stranger before. Caring for people that one doesn’t know is what “really special” people do. Not regular old “Joes” like me. But why shouldn’t I care? She’s a person and she’s hurting. That’s enough for me. Maybe this is the next step. Maybe this is the leap, the jumpstart I need to get me from self/family/friend centered to human centered. Or from a fleeting good morning to genuine caring. Who knows?

To date or not to date, that is the question...

For many years, I didn’t want to date. Even after many of my friends were already married, I was still hesitant. I got many responses to this, varying from, “That’s good, take your time.” to “You never feel ready, what are you waiting for?” But no matter what anyone said to me, I could not be convinced. What’s strange about this is, I am dying to get married. I have wanted a serious relationship since I was eighteen. Granted, I was nowhere near ready to get married then, but I have had the marriage bug for a while now. Yet still, I could not be persuaded to date. As peculiar as that sounds, the reason was quite simple. My philosophy is that you get what you are. You can’t expect to get someone that is on a substantially higher madrega than you (nor would you necessarily want to). And I wasn’t who I wanted to be. Therefore, any girl who would want me, I probably wouldn’t want. Sure, I could date even though I wasn’t ready to get married, but to me, that isn’t right. I don’t believe in playing around with the feelings of others (or my own for that matter). So I just waited. I told myself that I would work on my middos. The problem was that since I wasn’t dating, I just didn’t believe I was going to get married. It is easy to procrastinate when something doesn’t seem real to you. In the end, even though I was waiting to date until I was the person I wanted to be, I wasn’t working hard enough on becoming that person. Sort of a catch-22.

And now? Well now, I finally feel ready to date. Unfortunately, just when I am ready, I don’t really have the time. It’s ironic, isn’t it? I bet you are wondering what changed. Why am I suddenly prepared to start? The sad truth is, I think I gave up on my dream. I had an image of what I wanted for my life, what kind of girl I wanted to marry, what type of home I wanted to have. If I couldn’t have that, then I didn’t want to get married. At a certain point though, the whole image started fading away. It became unrealistic or at least irrelevant. I am what I am. Sure, I try to be better, but there is only so much one man can do.

The loss of a dream is a misfortune. It’s partially why I was worried about going off the derech. If you don’t have something to hold on to, then what is there to keep you on the path? I think I’ve found that it’s not as easy to go off as I thought. I feel like I have a fighting chance to make it. What kind of life I will lead and who I live it with, well, that’s a different story. One that will only unravel with time…