Seeking Soulmate in Time of War

If I reflect on the arc of my adult romantic life to date, I realize that I’ve spent a good portion of the years yearning for love, seeking love, loving/giving to the wrong person long after it is acceptable, and pained by both the loss of love and the dating process. I’ve always imagined the tiny unspoken judgments from family and friends, or barely discernible roll of the eyes and speech bubbles above their heads: “She always chooses poorly”, “She could easily have been remarried by now”, “Is she ever going to get it right?” !אין מה לעשות  This is my Achilles heel.

When I arrived in Israel 2 years ago, I was at the tail-end of a relationship with a real mensch who had no interest in moving to Israel. Our relationship was not soulmate quality, but he was a generous, dependable man and we gave equally, which is rare and a blessing. However, in the deepest place in my heart, I knew I wouldn’t give up my Aliyah dream for a man.

During the 10 years prior, since my divorce, I had always announced emphatically and rather controversially in my Orthodox circles that I didn’t want to get married again anytime in the foreseeable future. The reason? I never wanted to experience divorce again, neither the eviscerating pain, nor the truncated dreams and dissolution of the family unit. I was keenly aware that blending families for a 2^nd marriage only adds to the complexities and stress, reducing the odds of success.

I never expected my feelings around marriage to change in Israel. In fact, once my relationship ended formally around 4 months after I arrived, I was sure I would never go back to internet dating. But, one night in late fall 2022, I went to a dance class in an oddly shaped, dimly lit studio off Emek Refaim with my friend Dahlia, a vivacious widow who was dating a lot and enjoying it. During dinner at the First Station afterward, she sparked something in my brain – an openness maybe – and within a few days, I had re-entered the world of internet dating . . .

. . . but some basic fundamentals had changed. For the first time in 12 years, I feel open to marriage, specifically a holy marriage to my soulmate. This feeling came to me in an uncontrived manner, having entered my consciousness completely spontaneously like a נבואה (prophecy). Living in Jerusalem, I get the sense that Hashem has a more direct role in guiding my personal life than ever before. And I feel that He would not have helped me come all this way here to grow old without a partner. For sure, b”h, my life in Israel is already full, with amazing friends, my kids, an abundance of both cultural and Torah-learning opportunities, and spiritual growth as a daily practice. Yet, a holy marriage does feel at times like the missing puzzle piece of my new life in Eretz Kodesh. After all, holiness is everywhere here, and I admit, at times I can’t help feeling a little FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) seeing the array of beautiful Israeli women with unending varieties of מטפחת (head scarf) arrangements that lend an air of regalness and power.

While the American dating sites yielded no one interesting, I turned to Shlish Gan Eden, the premier Israeli site for observant people. Only because the site allowed me to create a profile in English, I took the plunge. Within a few weeks I had over 200 emails from different men, and I was on my way. The site translates profiles to English for me, but sometimes gets carried away. Periodically, I’d get a notice asking if I want to date My Father, or My People. Poor Avi and Ami . . . they didn’t stand a chance!

I met several Israeli men for coffee or dinner, but had few 2^nd dates. By now, it was past Oct 7, 2023, the war had begun, and the country was in a state of shock and trauma. After a two month pause, during which I joined the global Jewish community in praying, volunteering, and providing food and supplies for soldiers, my search for love continued.

A met a mysterious, pious Argentinian-Israeli, a convert with 6 kids, who – I would learn — had just given a Get to his 2^nd wife. His 20-year-old son had fought in Gaza in the early weeks of the war, and was currently in a rehab hospital, having lost one of his legs from the hip down. My date relayed how either he or his ex-wife (mom to the wounded son) was always by their son’s bedside, and he had no time to take care of the other kids and also be there for his 2^nd wife. I asked him why he would go on a date at this time, and at least on the spot, he had no good answer. I suspect he simply craved the company of a warm, kind woman with chocolate-brown eyes, even if it was only for a brief lunch at Kikar Musica in the glow of the Jerusalem December sun.

Next, I met a Sephardi Israeli with rugged good looks, יראת שמים (G-d fearing), and very poor English skills. He had 8 kids, all married with children and all successful professionally. He pursued me avidly, but I felt the cultural gap was too great. He couldn’t stop telling me how perfect his kids were and sending me photos of them. I tried to imagine a casual, cozy Sunday night dinner with just 55 of us, and somehow I couldn’t.

Following was an American Israeli, very recently divorced and still quite wounded from his marriage. He has two sons fighting in Gaza and a hard time talking about them without tearing up. We weren’t a match but have become friends.

More recently, I met a spiritual Israeli בעל תשובה from Modi’in, a social worker working with troubled youth, who speaks English well and has an impressive knowledge of Torah. Already in our initial texts and phone call, a nascent emotional connection emerged. We seemed to have a matching willingness to be vulnerable, as well as the capacity for nuanced language to express our desires and emotions. On our first date at Café Ella, I was drawn to his self-effacing demeanor, humor, and intelligence. His liquid blue eyes, elfish smile, and a touch of absentminded professor vibe were all kind of irresistible too. On our subsequent dates we shared some interesting adventures, talked and laughed a lot, and truly enjoyed each other’s company. Yet, the trajectory of our relationship stalled at least in part due to the fact that he lost his 22-year-old daughter in Kibbutz Be’eri on Oct 7. While he functions well enough on the exterior, he is still, understandably, navigating a vat of grief and shock, which also exacerbates his chronic health issues. Given the complications, it is definitely too early to know if he is my soulmate or how the relationship will develop.

Which leads me to the several reminders I got this week about Parshat Shelach and the story of the spies, first in this last week’s Parshat Devarim, in which the spy story is repeated, and as we enter Tisha B’Av. Apparently, it was the 9th of Av when the spies returned to Israel with their report. To recap Shelach, the fledgling Jewish nation, standing at the threshold of Eretz Yisrael is ready, as Moshe instructs, to conquer it. However, the storyline pivots when the people clamor for a preview of the land. As such, leaders of each tribe are sent as spies to report back on the conditions of the land. The spies return after 40 days, and all but two give negative, editorialized reviews. They do admit:

And then deliver the classic ‘but’:

So, despite the overt divine miracles they had witnessed just a year prior and the acceptance of the Torah at Mount Sinai, upon hearing the spies’ reports, the Jewish people are demoralized, start to cry and long to go back to Egypt. They are fearful of leaving the spiritual comforts and proximity to G-d in the desert for something new: a place more real, where they would have to engage with the physical world, farm the land, create an army, fight battles, etc. Ultimately, they weren’t ready to master the integration of the spiritual with the physical, which is a hallmark of Judaism. Other religions may seek to lift people to heaven, but the Jewish aim is to bring heaven down to earth. The grooves in their brains were stuck in old ways. They preferred the safety of going back to Egypt over risking all to live their best lives. In fact, it is possible that the spies were not afraid of failure, but rather of success. As a result, Hashem changes the plan and Bnei Yisrael is destined to travel the desert for 40 years, so that they will die out, and a new generation will be born with the faith and courage needed to finally possess the land. Bnei Yisrael simply had to face the fact that their children would achieve what they themselves were not ready for.

Parshat Shelach speaks to me intimately, particularly in regard to my personal Achille’s heel. Deeply rooted self-doubt and worthiness issues have always been at the base of most of my struggles in love. I’ve clung to old thought patterns more tenaciously than I’ve trusted Hashem’s ability to guide my path. Particularly when I was younger, I was the Queen of ‘Buts’ . . . but I’m not good enough, pretty enough, etc. Creating a successful, holy 2^nd marriage represents for me, engaging fully in the physical world, and at the same time transforming and elevating it by bringing the Divine light to the marriage and perhaps also to the dark/wounded places in me and those around me. Perhaps faced with the same question Bnei Yisrael had to entertain, am I willing to risk all to get it right? Like the spies, maybe it has not been failure that I’ve feared all these years, but rather success? In the end, I hope my detour won’t take 40 years!

Alas, Hashem may not grant me a soulmate or remarriage. I do make much better choices these days and exit relationships quickly in which I do most of the giving or where I don’t feel valued or respected. But still, some of the old patterns may be too hard to break. And my אֱמוּנָה, though growing, may not be enough.  Like Bnei Yisrael in the desert, if I miss out, I’m hopeful the next generation will merit it. Indeed, I pray often that Hashem will help my wonderful daughters meet good, solid men, and build holy marriages and families here in Eretz Yisrael!

Finally, as our last Simchat Torah was turned into a day of mourning, please G-d, turn our imminent Tisha B’Av into a day of redemption and joy!

In the merit of all the remaining hostages being released very soon.

לעילוי נשמת מלכה בת חנוך

לעילוי נשמת יהודה בן יצחק

לעילוי נשמת רחל בת חנוך

לעילוי נשמת מרים בת חנוך