Then one morning, I told myself, “The pity party is over, girl. It’s time to move on”
I was acing singlehood. I had close friends, a fulfilling job, and an active social life. I traveled the world and spent every Tishrei in Eretz Yisrael. Even though I was 33, I had plenty of dates.
What more could a girl want?
I’ll tell you what she wanted: a husband.
Years before, I’d returned from seminary in June and had my first date in July. Two years later, I got engaged to Guy #18. I was following the classic “frum success story.” Then the plot got messy.
As we planned a wedding together, issues emerged. Three weeks before my wedding, I needed to break off the engagement.
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