This is a little… immature, but maybe it’s because he’s my age, and he hasn’t been dating as long as I have
And the unspoken, What’s wrong with you?
I don’t personally think there’s anything wrong with me. I’m average, not too pretty or too skinny or too outgoing. My glaring flaw is that I’m not married, not for lack of trying. My mother is a shadchan — professional, the kind who gets results — and she’s handpicked the bevy of boys I’ve dated. But my dates have gone nowhere. He ends it after two dates. I end it after three. It’s just never been right, never a connection that isn’t supremely superficial.
Does it eat away at me? Sometimes. But it makes me better at my job. Girls are more willing to speak to me because I get them. “Shidduch counselor?” they repeat to Ima, and she nods enthusiastically.
“Miriam does the handholding,” she says. “Sometimes you want to talk with someone who isn’t invested, you know? She’s there, pre-date and post-date, for all your needs.”
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