This.
Is.
Me.
This flimsy white piece of paper is Me. I may have just spent a whopping 13 minutes regaling shadchan #27 with stories of my life and dreams of my future, but at the end of the day, it’s this piece of paper that will be used to discern whether I will be a perfect fit for someone’s son.
The trees in the world may decry the existence of shidduch résumés, but without them, I would very possibly have an identity crisis. I mean, if no résumé stared me in the face and told me, you are still very much five feet, my height would be in flux, and I could convince myself that I grew three inches overnight — especially after a good night’s sleep.
So with my years of résumé updating under my belt, here are some of my thoughts on this basic element of shidduchim.
First, the existential question: If I am four feet eleven and three quarters of an inch and can pass for five feet if the examiner forgot her glasses, what do I write on my résumé?
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