This comment was a dagger to my heart. Boring? How could my own husband find me boring?
As told to Roizy Baum
I was just 18 when I began shidduchim. To my joy and relief, it was a super smooth process — my husband Shua was the first boy I met.
When it came to doing homework on shidduch prospects, my parents always relied on information from people they knew rather than people who knew the boy well. As the youngest, I felt very comfortable leaving all the “background checks” to them. They’d done it successfully ten times. Why should the 11th be any different? I knew the boy must be a stellar talmid chacham with great middos, because only boys of that caliber passed my parents’ thorough inspection.
Shua’s mother insisted that she meet me before I met her son. From the first second, I was enamored by his mother’s infectious smile and easygoing personality. I’m going to love visiting my mother-in-law, was my first thought.
When I met Shua, I was on a high. He was so open-minded. Free-spirited and expressive, I always knew I’d marry someone less conservative than my siblings’ spouses. The way he made easy eye contact with me, so unlike the way my brothers-in-law did, didn’t bother me in the slightest. On the contrary, I felt relieved that he wasn’t this timid bochur who’d been in a protective cocoon since birth. I didn’t realize that the fact he was so different from other boys in our circles was a red flag.
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